


Am I Enough?

by alwayswithatoneofsurprise



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 80,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayswithatoneofsurprise/pseuds/alwayswithatoneofsurprise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve may not be the small, skinny boy he once was, he may not be invisible anymore, but that doesn't mean he is noticed, that doesn't mean that the gorgeous brunette who comes in for coffee knows his name, that doesn't mean the brunette he watches from a far will ever, could ever like him back, that doesn't that he is good enough for the man with the soft smile and loud laugh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Small Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bucky? Bucky Barnes?” Tony says slowly, looking at Steve with a curious expression before he shrugs and waves hello to someone across the room, and smiles at someone else.
> 
> “Bucky Barnes.” Steve repeats, a smile curling onto his lips as he sounds the words out in his head, in his heart. Beside him, Tony shakes his head and rolls his eyes. It has only being a few weeks but Steve loves everything about Bucky. He is perfect.
> 
> “This is actually painful to watch. Have you even talked to him?” Tony asks. Behind him Sam shakes his head and Tony smiles.

Steve checks his watch again, the third time in the last few minutes.

It’s 7.34pm.

He’s late.

It was an obsession, an addiction really, and it had only started three weeks ago. Three weeks ago he had almost walked into Sam when he moved to get a glass. Sam had said nothing and just motioned towards the door, where two people were slowly walking in, completely absorbed in their conversation. Steve knew Sam only had eyes for the redhead, her hair that hung over her shoulders, her black ripped jeans and her London Calling the Clash t-shirt, as she walked in, her ankle boots caked in mud and her blue eyes outlined with thick black eyeliner, Steve couldn’t deny that she was gorgeous. But Steve only had eyes for the brunette standing beside her, the brunette in undeniably tight black jeans that made Steve’s mind wander, and a dark blue knitted jumper that made the blue of his eyes stand out. His dark hair was ruffled, almost like he had just rolled out of bed, but that sort of thinking was not helping Steve as he was supposed to be making a drink. His name was Bucky and hers was Natasha, and Steve had never spoken to either of them.

Sure, he had watched from a far, half focused on working and half simply admiring Bucky from where he stood. Sometimes Bucky sat by himself; furiously scribbling into the leather notebook that he constantly had with him. Sometimes he simply stared out into the mall, as his right hand slowly swirled the spoon around his cup of coffee. Sometimes Bucky sat with Natasha, grinning and laughing and chatting, and making Steve want to both rip out his intestines at the sight of the two of them together and also die of happiness every time he saw a smile touch Bucky’s lips.

There was nothing he knew about Bucky, not really, he never really ordered the same thing; sometimes it was tea, sometimes it was coffee, sometimes something sweet, sometimes something savoury. But then again, he had only been in a few times now, but Steve was already looking forward to him coming in, he partially knew Bucky’s schedule, and he knew today was the day that Bucky came without Natasha, well for the first twenty minutes at least.

Steve physically aches to see Bucky smile at him the same way he smiles at Natasha, or to make Bucky’s lips curl or have him wrap his arm around him and plant a kiss of his forehead before he leaves. Part of him hates seeing Natasha and Bucky together, for one reason and one reason alone, because he wants it to be him not Natasha. Even if Sam manages a minor miracle, somehow achieving the impossible and getting Natasha to date him like he so desperately wants, Bucky could never like Steve, and Steve knows that.

Looking over at the door again, Steve sighs before looking back down at his sketchbook. Despite how hard he tries, he simply can’t get Bucky out of his head, and ever since he learned his name, courtesy of Sam who overheard the two of them speaking only yesterday, his obsession had only increased. Steve felt that name was perfect for him, and last night in the shower he had slowly sounded out the name, glad that Sam was out and that the water would cover his voice as he repeated the name aloud, wondering what his name would sound like rolling off Bucky’s tongue.

Trying to push Bucky out of his head for few seconds at least, he focuses on his sketchbook, continuing to work on the second floor of the apartment building he had seen this morning on his detour from college to work, he was running a little late, and he was sporting a bleeding nose. It wasn’t his fault really, that guy shouldn’t have been such a creep, that woman needed his help and despite the almost broken nose that Sam clicked into place only about two hours ago, that creep learnt his lesson so it was definitely worth the pain.

Steve often found himself in those sort of situations, even before when he was skinny and small and he was beaten the shit out of, the only difference was now he could actually win and he usually did, but sometimes when something caught him off guard, like today, he still managed to get himself injured.

 A glass shatters, drawing Steve’s attention forcing him to glance up from his sketch book before he sighs. He knows that Sam is stressed and tired, and as he stares blankly down at the glass in shards around his legs, with water splashed onto his jeans, Steve waves him off, silently telling him to dry his pants. Dropping his pencil and shutting his sketch book before grabbing a tea towel, Steve squats down, hovering over the glass, as he inspects the shards more closely. This is one of the things he hates about working at Shield, at least in a clothing store he wouldn’t have to deal with this, although from the stories Sam still tells he would have to deal with some pretty unsavoury costumers. Carefully avoiding the glass as he uses the tea towel to soak up the water off the floor, Steve wonders where Bucky works, and what is taking him so long.

Lost in thought, Steve reaches for the dust shovel. Throwing the soaking tea towel in the basket, he sweeps up the shards of glass, wondering what it is about Bucky that took him less than an hour to adore him. Maybe it was his bright blue eyes that Steve couldn’t fail to notice the second he walked in, or the smile that he wore, the sound of his voice, although admittedly, he had never heard it close up, perhaps it was the expression he wore of quiet contemplation when he sits there alone in silence, or the way he laughs. Maybe it isn’t just one thing, maybe it’s everything. Steve just doesn’t know but he does know without a shadow of a doubt that it wouldn’t work, even now, now he’s taller and stronger and broader, a guy like Bucky wouldn’t go for a guy like him.  Steve sighs, the glass and water is gone, but he still has a few hours of work left before he has to go back to his apartment and study. Placing his palm on the ground without looking, a sharp shot of pain makes him wince as he pushes himself to a standing position.

“Fucking brilliant.” Steve sighs as he notices the shard of glass sticking into his palm. Pulling it out, he reaches for a tissue and holds it to his palm.

“What di-” Sam starts as he stops in front of Steve, his pants now dry. Steve tries to wave him off again, like he did before but Sam isn’t having a bar of it. Taking a step towards Steve, he wets another tea towel and presses it against Steve’s hand before he lifts up, checking for glass.

“I’m f-” Steve starts, but Sam gives him a look and he immediately shuts up. They can hear voices behind him, its dinner time, so of course it’s getting busy but luckily today neither of them are serving customers. Steve didn’t exactly hate his job, sometimes he enjoys it, and he did prefer it to the other sorts of jobs he could have encountered, at least this one was in the warmth, inside and didn’t contain anything overly disgusting or exhausting. And anyway Shield is close to where he shares an apartment with Sam, and it was close to the university, and it’s not bad work, plus it means he can look at Bucky, but that was a relatively new perk. The hours were flexible and he wasn’t paid awesomely, but there was a fair bit of down time so it meant he could draw.

“You’re lucky it’s not deep.” Is all Sam says as he puts on a band-aid. Opening his mouth to say something more, something catches his eye, and from the small smile on his lips as Sam looks down at Steve, he knows who it is. “This oughta cheer you up.” Sam adds with a grin.

“It’s not- I don’t-” Steve starts, his eyes still on his palm as he presses down on it lightly with his thumb, not able to look at Sam and definitely not able to turn around and look at who he knows just walked it.

“Really Rogers? Don’t even try, it’s just pathetic listening to you-” Sam interrupts, grinning madly down at Steve as he speaks. For the last few months he had been trying to get Steve to go on dates with him, but Steve had refused, and when he finally went out it was obvious that he would rather be at home. It wasn’t until the third time Bucky came in that Sam had realised why Steve had no interest double dating with Sam or with any of the girls Sam had pointed out, Steve wasn’t into those girls, no, not at all, and three weeks later, Steve was seriously crushing on Bucky.

“Wow.” Steve almost moans, as he lets out a puff of breath. Bucky has some stubble, some completely and totally perfect stubble which Steve cannot help but admire, the smile on his lips as he watches Bucky is not helping Steve’s failing attempts to convince Sam that he is not at all in love with him. Sam opens his mouth but before he can get a single word Steve mutters, “Shut up.” Bucky also happens to be wearing a long sleeved navy blue shirt which is a tighter than any of the other shirts he has worn in the past three weeks, which is not helping Steve’s expression at all. The black skinny jeans and the book he holds in his right hand, are both additions that are making Steve’s smile grow, as he feels himself melt.

“He’s cute, you sho- Shutting up.” Sam stops as Steve shoots him a look and Bucky approaches the two of them, almost within earshot. “For now.” Sam adds, grinning at Steve before he disappears into the kitchen. As the door swings shut behind him, Steve remains still, his eyes now on his hand, as he tries to regulate his breathing, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating.

Returning back to his sketch book, Steve lowers himself onto the stool and waits for something to do. His back to Bucky, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, he knows that Bucky is sitting down now, he must be, and he knows that he will need to return to working, and as he takes another breath in, Steve slowly stands up and heads into the kitchen.

**...**

“Oh yes.” Sam breathes, almost twenty minutes later. Steve is hard at work, he hasn’t forgotten about Bucky, but he is trying to be more focussed on working than on Bucky, and now that Natasha is here, it will be even harder to not think about Bucky. When Bucky sits alone, he is silent, but when he sits with Natasha, Steve can hear him laughing and all he wants to do is to see the smile that accompanies it as he aches to be near Bucky.

It takes another five minutes before Steve is out of the kitchen, sitting back on his stool his pencil in hand as he does a quick sketch of Bucky in the bottom right corner of his page. This isn’t the first time he’s drawn Bucky, but slowly his drawings are getting bigger, mixing up different drawing techniques as he does so, he knows that by this time next week he will have a whole page dedicated to Bucky, perhaps more.

“They aren’t dating.” Sam reasons, partly for Steve’s sake but partly for his own. Steve raises an eyebrow and Sam sighs. Natasha has her hand resting on Bucky’s thigh, and she is practically sitting on him as she laughs, leaning against her shoulder, before she whispers something into his ear and the two of the fall into laughter again. “They’re just close.” Sam adds, and Steve sighs louder this time.

“Maybe they are just affectionate people, you don’t know.” Sam says quietly, not quite believing his own words. Steve hates it, but he understands it. He knows that even if by some miracle Bucky was interested in men, he wouldn’t like Steve. Steve who had barely even been kissed, who no one had really cared about until he hit puberty and grew taller and broader, Steve who wasn’t able to really date anyone, because he wanted someone who he wouldn’t have been invisible to before he, well became hot.

He wanted someone who saw him for him, not someone who saw him for what he looked like now, he wanted to be seen by someone who would have seen him when he was invisible. Steve was fine with barely kissing anyone, on some level at least, he wanted to wait for something more, but now he was beginning to feel like he had waited too long. He was into his twenties and unlike Sam he had never slept with anyone, or done anything more than a quick kiss, but with Bucky, he reckoned that Bucky would have seen him when he was invisible, if only he would see him now, that was the problem.

Almost to press the issue, someone walks past their table and Natasha murmurs something and Bucky’s lips twitch for a second before he erupts in laughter and Natasha picks up his coffee and takes a sip as she smiles into the cup. Steve sighs again and turns back to coffee he is making. He lets Bucky’s laughter fill him up as he steams the milk.

It hurts to see them like that, Bucky and Natasha sitting so close to one another, clearly enjoying each other’s company. But what hurts more, is that Steve doesn’t care who makes Bucky smile, he just loves to see the grin on his face, and hear the sound of his laughter, no matter who is the instigator of his happiness.

**...**

The next two days are completely uneventful. Steve hauls himself out of bed in the morning, goes for a run for about half an hour and then heads into his morning lectures. Work in the afternoon is dull, and there is no sign of Bucky, no matter how much time Steve spends looking longingly at the door and ignoring Sam’s remarks, Bucky still doesn’t show for two days. Natasha is this afternoon though there, with a few of what looks like must be her friends, and it only hurts Steve more. Natasha doesn’t act the same way with any of them as she acts with Bucky, and although Sam has been attempting not to notice for the past half hour, Steve knows what it means, they must be dating, which means that Bucky is two things, not single and utterly uninterested in him.

“Still convinced?” Is all Steve says, and Sam shrugs before going back to work.

Sam doesn’t mention the lack of Bucky on their way home, and neither does Steve, but Sam can’t fail to notice the look on Steve’s face as they walk in silence, their music blaring and both headphones in. Sam doesn’t say a word instead he sends a few texts, and avoids Steve’s questioning gaze.

**...**

Still in clothes fresh from work, Steve has only been home for about three minutes before there is a knock on the door and the persuasion begins. It is now obvious who Sam was texting, and considering he was wanting Steve to come out with them, his choice of person probably wasn’t the smartest decision.

“Come on Steve you have to come.” Sam insists. Steve sighs. He thought that Sam had stopped trying to persuade him already. For the past two weeks Sam had been buzzing about a party that was happening at someone’s flat that they absolutely had to go to, in all honesty all Steve wants to do was order pizza, collapse on the couch, watch some terrible movie on tv with Sam, maybe sketch a little and then get some much needed sleep.

“Yeah Rogers.” Tony adds with a smile. He is leaning against the front door of Sam and Steve’s flat, exuding the air of confidence and cockiness that he always has, without fail. They only just got home about 5 minutes ago and Sam is ready and waiting for Steve who is leaning against the kitchen bench, a half-drunk glass of water in his hand as he shakes his head.

“I have an early class tomo-” Steve starts, wishing that they didn’t insist on him having a social life so often. He was fine with staying in, he actually wanted to, but Sam wanted to go out tonight, and he wanted Steve to come.

“So only stay for an hour.” Sam suggests. Tony is simply watching the two of them now. Sam has his phone in hand, and is pulling on his shoes, as he stares up at Steve with pleading brown eyes. Sam doesn’t want to force Steve, but he wants Steve to have a good night out. The past two months have been pretty hectic for the two of them either studying or working. Sam needs a night out, and so does Steve, or at least so Sam thinks.

“I ju-” Steve says after a pause. He can’t think of a real reason not to go, he doesn’t absolutely despise the idea, he frankly just can’t be bothered, but he knows he isn’t going to be able to hold out any longer, Sam will convince him he knows, it’s just a matter of time.

“There will be tonnes of gorgeous wo- no, men there.” Sam corrects himself as he straightens up, both shoes on, ready to go.

“I’m not fucking interes-” Steve starts, raising his glass to his lips as he talks. He is starting to bend towards going, he knows he is, but he still isn’t sure.

“In anyone except that brunette from h&m” Sam finishes for him with a smile. Steve sighs and takes a sip of water as Tony looks from Steve to Sam wondering.

“Oh the one with that great bone struct-” Tony almost shouts out in realisation, a grin on his face as he looks at Steve who almost groans.

“Shut the fuck Tony.” Steve cuts across flatly and Tony stops talking but continues to grin at Steve, giving him a small nod, effectively telling Steve he approves of his taste. Steve sighs as he turns to Sam, wondering how much liquor will be there tonight.

“You coming then?” Sam asks, ignoring the looks that Tony and Steve are exchanging. Tony is still grinning at Steve who is trying not to roll his eyes as he takes another sip of water. God, Tony is like a horny teenage boy sometimes, Steve thinks. Looking over at Tony, Steve is about to roll his eyes when Tony makes a small gesture that Sam misses, but causes Steve to choke of the water he was attempting to swallow.

“Shit. Fine. But only for an hour.” Steve says, looking straight at Sam, completely avoiding Tony who is doubled over at the door laughing at Steve’s choking and failed attempts to clear his throat inconspicuously. Sam is looking from Steve to Tony in confusion before he shrugs and grins at Steve, and shoos him into his room to get change.

**...**

He told them he didn’t want to come. He knew he wasn’t going to enjoy it, and yet here he was, just under an hour in, wearing a pair of jeans and a simple grey t-shirt. All he wants is another scotch, but while he waits he is like a gazelle in the Serengeti, about to be hunted. Part of him preferred being invisible, because then he was basically ignored as he waited by the bar, but at least now he could order a drink, but he did have to put up with woman batting their eyelashes at him, woman who would have ignored him before. He tries not to hold a grudge against them, he truly does, but there is no way in hell he will ever date someone as shallow as most of the people unashamedly eyeing him up. He isn’t bitter... not really.

“Hey.” A brunette says, a smile plastered on her face, along with a solid inch of makeup. Her hair is meticulous, it probably took an hour to do, she looks pretty but Steve can read someone like her from a mile off. He had noticed her the minute he arrived, and not in a good way. Unlike some of her ‘friends’ she has been unmistakably glaring at people since Steve arrived, and had ‘accidently’ tipped her drink on a woman who was wearing a similar dress to her.

“Hey.” Steve answers flatly. Needless to say this woman does not have a snowballs chance in hell.

Five minutes later, Steve is waiting for a fresh scotch, when another woman approaches him, this one looks friendly, but that doesn’t change the fact that Steve has no interest in her, or anyone at this party.

“Hey I– oh my god, is that Tony Stark?” The women almost shrieks as she glances over Steve’s shoulder. He winces at the sound of her voice so close to his ear and simply nods without looking over to where Tony Stark is no doubt standing, with his arm slung around someone. “Are you like friends?” She asks, staring intently at Steve who opens his mouth to reply but before he can get a word out she adds, “That is so cool, don’t you-”

“Sorry I have to take this.” Steve interrupts, waving his phone at her as she stands frozen in front of him. Her smile falters for a second before she nods her head and her happy expression returns. Steve holds his phone to his ear as he walks towards Tony. “I am going to kill you.” Steve glares as he tucks his phone into his pocket.

“What did I ever do to you Rogers?” Tony answers. The strawberry blonde standing in front of Tony gives him a smile before leaving Tony and Steve as she goes to grab another drink. Tony watches her walk away, his eyes on her ass as Steve waits for Tony’s upstairs brain to regain control.

“Four people have hit on me in the last twenty minutes. Two wanted to talk to you and one was an utter bitch.” Steve moans as he steals Tony’s glass and lifts it so his lips.

“That’s not water.” Tony says quickly, but Steve has already downed half of it. Tony grins as Steve finishes the rest before he adds, “You said four.”

“Fourth one went to high school with me.” Steve answers with a sigh. This night was already awful, but at least the booze were free, the apartment was nice and the chairs were comfortable, so it wasn’t too bad, but Steve was still longing for his bed now more than ever.

“And?” Tony prompts as he scans the room, wondering where the strawberry blonde went.

“Her boyfriend enjoyed shoving me into lockers.” Steve sighs. He hated high school. It was utterly awful, utterly and completely. It was not a portion of his life he would like to revisit, but when part of it is obliviously hitting on you at a party you can’t avoid it.

“Well that’s not ba-” Tony starts as Sam walks up beside them, two drinks in his hand. Steve takes the shot and downs it before giving Tony a scathing look, cutting him short.

“At her request.” Steve says, a hint of sadness on his face. High school is hell, for almost everyone, and it was particularly dreadful for him. Being different is one thing, being small is another, but willing to stand up for what he believed in was something that ensured he didn’t have an enjoyable high school experience.

“Oh.” Tony breathes. Sam is silent beside the two of them, taking a sip of his beer as he surveys the room. Steve knows that he is trying to move on from Nat, he thinks she is gorgeous, which Steve has to agree with, but he doesn’t feel for her the way Steve feels for Bucky, so them dating is not taking the same toll on Sam’s emotions as it is on Steve’s.

“Didn’t even recognise me.” Steve sighs as Sam smiles over at a woman across the room, she smiles back and Sam’s smile grows. Looking back at Steve, Sam pats him on the back and gives him a supportive smile.

“I’m not into dudes, but that one’s cute, you could be into hi-” Tony says, pointing towards a man, albeit a good looking man, who is leaning against the doorframe, a beer in his hand as he stares down at his phone, in all likelihood texting his girlfriend, or boyfriend.

“God Tony, stop talking.” Steve places his hand on Tony’s pushing it down before the man can notice that he is pointing at him. Tony just smiles and Sam takes another sip of his beer as he makes eyes at the brunette across the room, who while talking to woman that Tony was looking for, is smiling back at Sam. She laughs and her head shakes, her brown hair tumbling over her shoulder and Sam finds he no longer cares for Steve and Tony’s conversation.

“What he ain’t as perfect as h&m guy?” Tony jokes, smiling at someone across the room before he looks pointedly at Steve, who can’t say to that.

“Bucky.” Steve corrects before he bites his tongue. Giving Tony more information about him was not a smart move by any measures. Sam is smiling and Steve shoots him a look, still smiling Sam takes another sip of his beer before his gaze falls on the brunette again, still smiling as she talks to the woman seated in front of her.

“Bucky? Bucky Barnes?” Tony says slowly, looking at Steve with a curious expression before he shrugs and waves hello to someone across the room, and smiles at someone else.

“Bucky Barnes.” Steve repeats, a smile curling onto his lips as he sounds the words out in his head, in his heart. Beside him, Tony shakes his head and rolls his eyes. It has only being a few weeks but Steve loves everything about Bucky. He is perfect.

“This is actually painful to watch. Have you even talked to him?” Tony asks. Behind him Sam shakes his head and Tony smiles.

“Well no  bu-” Steve starts, his cheeks reddening, which only makes Tony smile wider. Sam pats him on the shoulder again before slipping past him, over to the other side of the room, where the brunette is sitting, the brunette that has already made him forget about Natasha, the brunette who is gorgeous and all Sam wants to do is talk to her, for now…

“Oh Rogers.” Tony grins. Steve says nothing, silently wishing for more alcohol, but knowing with a lecture tomorrow, more alcohol is not the best plan, but it would make this party, this conversation far more bearable. He looks over at Tony who is smiling at someone else, of course he knows everyone, how couldn’t he, when something occurs to him.

“How the fuck do you know his name?” Steve asks, looking at Tony curiously. If Tony knows him does that mean Bucky will be, oh, shit.

“I know things Rogers when are you going to realise it. Your boy’s good. He’s smart.” Tony says as someone hands him a drink, it barely touches his palm when Steve yanks it out of his grip and takes a long sip, swallowing before Tony finishes talking and hands him back his beer.

“Shit.” Steve sighs. If Tony thinks he is smart, if he’s smart by Tony’s standards, means that he really doesn’t have a chance does he?

“Not a genius like me but-” Tony starts, smiling as he thinks of how smart he is, and trails off as he stares dreamily straight ahead causing Steve to groan inaudibly before he takes Tony’s drink again and as another sip.

“Like too smart for me?” Steve asks as he hands what’s left of Tony’s drink back to him. Tony downs the rest before he looks Steve up and down and gives him a small sympathetic smile.

“Seriously Steve, stop. You could totally nab him if-” Tony starts, smiling at someone across the room as he talks, his attention not completely on this conversation, but the amount of attention he still has for this conversation with Steve is particularly perplexing to Steve, this is Tony Stark after all.

“Wait why aren’t your being your usual asshole of a self?” Steve interrupts, looking at Tony curiously. Tony and him are friends sure, Steve is as much of a friend as anyone can be with Tony, who is slightly self involved, and can drone on and on about himself at times, and be a down right dick sometimes. Tony is kind sure, but he has never had a conversation with Steve for this long, or being this invested, or even this nice.

“Oh Rogers you say the sweetest things to me.” Tony smiles without missing a beat.

“How much have you had to drink?” Steve asks, raising his eyebrow as he looks Tony up and down, wondering if maybe he should get him to sit down. But Tony is standing steady and his voice isn’t slurring, he can’t be drunk, but he must be for this amount of attentiveness for a conversation where the subject is not himself.

“Enough to be able to talk to you for a few minutes. So a lot.” Tony grins and Steve sighs again. “Anyway where was I, I get it Barnes is crazy bangable hot, I know that you really want to...” Tony adds. Steve is silently beckoning for Sam to come over, for Sam to stop this conversation, to distract Tony, anything.

“I beg you to stop talking.” Steve cuts him off, giving him a look that he regrets instantly when the corners of Tony’s mouth curl upwards into a smile. Tony’s mouth opens, no doubt about to say something that Steve does not want to hear come out of Tony’s mouth ever, when Sam reaches them and Steve cannot help but grin, especially when Tony turns and turns a little red.

“Hey Ton.” The strawberry blonde for before says, and all Tony can do is look at her for a few moments before he remembers to talk.

“Pepper, you look...” Tony starts, smiling at her, as Sam and the brunette smile at one another, their hands almost touching as they stand side by side. Tony stops, as his eyes skim over her again, searching for a word.

“Gorgeous.” Steve mutters, quiet enough that no one apart from Tony can hear.

“Gorgeous.” Tony finishes with a smile. Pepper smiles at him and takes a step closer.

“And that’s my cue to leave. See you guys later.” Steve says before slipping past Sam and the brunette standing beside him. He can tell Sam wants to say something but the brunette holds out her hand, and asks him to dance, and as much as he wants Steve to stay, he isn’t going to miss an opportunity to dance with her. Steve gives him a smile before he pulls the door shut behind him, and Sam smiles back.

All the party had done was make Steve pine for Bucky more, and the entire walk home he sounds the name in his head, ‘Bucky Barnes’, wondering what he will learn about him next, and he can’t wait to find out. As he imagines scenario after scenario, Steve is smiling crazily by the time he gets into bed, and drifts off thinking of Bucky.

**...**

With only a slight hangover his lecture isn’t as hellish as one would expect after that many shots, but coming to work and having to put up with a full hour of Sam practically gushing about the brunette that he met at the party the night before is not fun at all. Maria was her name, and she hadn’t kissed Sam but she almost did, and she had given him her number and she was just wonderful in every way under the sun, and Steve is finding it hard to bear Sam’s upbeat energetic self when his headache starts to kick in. What doesn’t help matters is how busy the café is, and the people in the queue speak with loud, whiny, high pitched voices that make Steve start to feel like ripping out their lungs. He sighs for what feels like the fourth time, inwardly of course, in the last three minutes, when the arrogant man in front of him continues to talk in such a condescending tone that Steve is fighting the urge to stab his hand with a fork.

“I don’t get why that is s-” The man continues, but Steve is only half listening. Standing behind him, slightly to the side, cowering in terror, about to be reduced to tears is a little girl, she must be about 3 by Steve’s guess, and she is looking from side to side, staring up into the crowd of people, only seeing legs and feet, and she is very obviously lost. Steve can’t concentrate, but he selects the order that the man is asking for, and nods, as he keeps an eye on the little girl, wishing that the queue wasn’t this long.

“Someone should control that child.” The man scowls as the little girl cries, a little strangled throat in the back of her throat sounds as she twists her neck, and stares upwards, trying desperately to find someone familiar as tears roll down her cheeks.

“Yo-” Steve starts, not able to control himself. The snide look on the man’s face makes Steve want to punch him, but firstly he wants to help the little girl. The little girl that nobody is helping, that nobody is even really looking at for more than a second, before they continue on their conversations or their busy lives, not wanting to be saddled with the responsibility of caring for another human being.

“Hey.” Bucky says, his voice cuts through Steve’s thoughts, and he turns his head quickly. He didn’t notice Bucky get up; he didn’t notice him until he heard his voice, cutting him short. Steve sees the top of Bucky’s head, he is bending down, so that he is at the same level as the little girl and Steve finds it hard to breathe, how can this guy be so amazing. “What’s wrong?” He asks, not even sounding like he is talking to a child, his tone is soft and Steve’s heart melts. He may not be able to see him, but he is sure that his blue eyes are shining, and his soft expression is not doubt a source of comfort for the crying child who Steve can see is looking at Bucky, her eyes wet and round, as she clings onto the fringe of her shirt.

"I'm lost.' She whimpers, her voice breaking and her grip on her shirt tightening. Steve notices the look of annoyance on the customers face, so he returns to his order, only half listening to what the man is saying, frankly he couldn’t care less. He is wondering how he is managing to even select the items the man is ordering, when his mind is occupied by the conversation he can barely hear.

"Well that's never good. I lost my friend too, but I'll tell you what, why don't you hang out with me till you get unlost." Bucky answers. Steve takes the man’s cash and quickly gives him change, as he focusses on breathing in and out. This the first time he has really heard Bucky’s voice, and like everything else he knows about him, he loves it just the same.

"Ok." She says, a smile breaking on her face. Steve can’t see anything but the top of Bucky’s head, but he has a clear view of the little girl, as the douchey customer heads over to a table and the man behind him steps up. Steve wishes he could get a better view and that he could breathe properly but knows it’s not likely when he is in such proximity to Bucky.

"What's your name?" Bucky asks softly, no doubt one of his smiles, that Steve loves to adore from afar, on his face. Steve is listening to the man’s order, but he doesn’t care that he wants a double shot expresso and a piece of caramel slice.

"Emily." She says taking a small step towards him. She is almost smiling now, and Steve’s heart is pounding in his chest, wishing desperately that there wasn’t a massive queue he had to work through.

"I'm James, but you can call me Bucky, all my friends do. How old are you Emily, you look proper mature." Bucky answers, Steve can practically hear his smile as he talks.

"I'm 3." Emily answers as she holds up three fingers. Steve can see the smile on her lips as she takes another step towards him.

"Three wow, that is impressive.” Bucky says, and the girl grins, before her stomach rumbles. Without missing a beat Bucky adds, “I'm starving, you hungry?" Emily nods in reply and Steve can see the top of Bucky’s head move, and he can see his face, his bright blue eyes twinkling as he glances at the glass cabinet before turning back to Steve. It was only about a second, but Steve can hear the pounding of his heart in his chest, even a second of Bucky with that soft look on his face and that smile, Steve is leaning against the bench, wondering whether he will ever be able to see Bucky and not feel this way.

"I don't know about you but I can only see the sandwiches from down here, so why don't we look at the cakes." Bucky says. Steve is waiting for the woman to put in her pin, so he glances over to where Bucky is still squatting in front of Emily, his hands reaching out towards her, moving slowly, and that small motion, that consideration, is not helping Steve. Bucky is moving slowly just in case Emily doesn’t want to be picked up, and Steve’s lips curl into a smile as Emily steps towards him, wanting to be held. In a few seconds, Bucky is standing up, Emily resting on his hip as he points at the cakes and Steve can no longer focus on anything but them. "Now what do you usually get?" Bucky asks, and Steve gives the woman her receipt and is glad the next person in the queue is looking undecided, and somewhat perplexingly unaffected by Bucky and Emily, while Steve is losing it.

"That." Emily says pointing at the biggest slice of mud cake. Bucky grins and laughs, and the little girl chuckles before pointing at a slice, much smaller and sadly a lot healthier looking. Steve takes the man’s order as he watches Bucky glance at the two items, as Steve decides he is looking to see if she could be allergic to anything in the mud cake, god, Bucky is actually killing him.

“That piece is ginormous, you couldn’t possibly eat alone!" Bucky answers. Emily laughs and holds onto Bucky’s arm, she may have only known him for a few minutes but she was comfortable and felt relaxed, with his strong arms holding onto her, and Steve couldn’t blame her one bit, for a moment he wonders what it would feel like, but those sort of thoughts do not help him focus one bit, so he bites down on the inside of his cheek and forces himself to focus. Steve looks up at Bucky, who is pausing for a moment before he grins again, "We'll have to share it then." Emily grins and Steve tries to hide a smile as he places in an order for a toasted sandwich.

"Steve when you have a sec, your biggest slice of mud cake and two forks for Princess Emily and me." Bucky says, smiling at Steve, who can feel his heart stop, Bucky’s blue eyes are on him and Steve can’t remember how to breathe. Steve who was basically on autopilot since Bucky had stooped down in front of him, somehow despite all odds, manages to give him a smile and nod his head as he counts the man’s cash out. For a moment, Steve pauses and looks up but Bucky is already walking back to his table with Emily still resting on his hip. A question bubbles to the surface of his mind as Steve hands the man his change, how on earth did Bucky know his name. Sure he had known Bucky’s name for a little over a week now, but he had no idea how Bucky could possibly know his. Turning to grab the man a bottle of coke from the fridge behind him, it dawns on him, of course, his name tag.

Somehow he manages to work with an almost clear head for the next seven minutes, until the line is clear, by some miracle he made his way through without getting any orders wrong, and as he hands the woman her number he glances over at Bucky and Emily, their order still fresh in his mind. Steve gives an audible sigh at the sight in front of him. Emily is sitting on Bucky’s knees, a grin on her face and a smile on his. He hadn't thought it was capable to love Bucky anymore, but as he notices the pencil in her hand, as she continues to draw all over a piece of paper that Bucky had no doubt ripped out of the book that he so often sits there with.

As Emily giggles and Bucky says something that Steve is too far away to hear, Steve figures that if hearts could melt, his would. Grabbing the cake out of the glass case, he motions to Sam, who understands immediately. With the cake on a plate, Steve makes his way over to Bucky, somehow managing to put one foot in front of the other, while attempting to stop his hand from shaking, with no success.

"I'm not really a princess though." Emily says when Steve gets within ear shot, his walking slows hoping to catch as much of their conversation as he can as he makes his way over, hoping not to trip or do anything embarrassing, as Bucky slowly guides a pen across the page.

"Neither's my friend Nat, but she's amazing. She would be more like a super spy, or an astronaut or a warrior, like you." He finishes, as an even wider smile splits across Emily's face. Her eyes move from his face to the paper in front of her and she grins again. "I'm rubbish at drawing really, nowhere near as good as you, but you can't be good at everything that wouldn’t be fair." Bucky adds with a grin, and Emily laughs, Steve is having trouble putting on foot in front of the other, and is barely moving as he slowly approaches them.

"I'm rubbish at counting." Emily sighs, and Bucky gives her a look before she adds, "But it wouldn’t be fair if I was good at everything.” She may only be three but she learns fast, and Steve cannot help but smile at the two of them.

"And anyway warriors don't need really counting, wonder woman never did and she still kicked as- butt." Bucky replies, before his blue eyes glance up at Steve who is two steps from their table now. Steve can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he opens his mouth to say something, anything, perhaps something witty but his mind is blank, utterly and completely blank. Fucking brilliant, he thinks.

"The biggest slice of chocolate mud cake the world has even seen." Steve says as he places the plate on the table, before looking at Bucky and his legs sway beneath him as Bucky smiles. Glad he has already placed the plate on the table, Steve’s hand trembles and his heart pounds and his breath hitches and his face blushes.

"Thanks Steve." Bucky answers. Steve turns away from him, a smile spreading across his face. It wasn’t that he disliked his name, but no one had ever made his name sound quite that good, he liked the way it sounded coming off Bucky's tongue, and as he struggles to make his way back to behind the counter without fainting or tripping, he tries to ignore what else would sound better coming off Bucky's tongue.

Why does he have to be so fucking perfect, Steve moans inwardly as he leans against the counter, trying not to let his eyes stray to Bucky and Emily; but knowing it is only a matter of time, he lets himself succumb and he regrets his decision immediately when he meets Bucky’s blue eyes and he flashes him another smile. Steve’s legs shake and he miraculously manages to smile back.

“I found it!” Sam announces ten minutes later as he heads out of the kitchen and towards Steve who hands a woman her receipt. Sam is smiling and his hand is in his other phone, and Steve can just tell from the look on his face that he is debating whether it is too soon to call Maria, and Steve can’t help but smile, it’s good to see Sam so happy.

“Found what?” Steve asks, not turning to face him, instead he leans down against the counter, glad that they queue is finally empty, he can finally relax for a few moments. Closing his eyes, he tries to relax as he waits for Sam to answer.

“Your name tag you idiot.” Sam answers, pushing Steve’s badge into his hand as Steve opens his eyes and stands up.

“Thanks.” Steve smiles gratefully as he pins it to his shirt before his smile falters, if he wasn’t wearing his tag then how did Bucky know his name? Steve shakes his head, he is thinking way too much about this. Sam is staring at his phone again, and Steve smiles, pushing Bucky not out of his mind, but to a corner, so he can focus on Sam.

“Wait why are you still here? Your shift ended like five minutes ago.” Sam questions as he looks up at Steve from his phone. He still hasn’t called Maria, or texted her, he can’t think of a single intelligible thing to type, he wants to send something witty but simple, something to show that he has been thinking about her but not to seem desperate. It was all about the balance, which is why, he still hadn’t sent anything.

“Oh.” Steve breathes, he can’t help it but his gaze strays, landing on Bucky and Emily who are still laughing and smiling away, making Steve’s heart beat quicken as he tries not to melt at the sheer adorability of the whole thing. He looks back at Sam hoping he hasn’t noticed, but of course Sam has and he smiles at Steve who looks back over at Bucky, only briefly before looking back at Sam.

“You want to see the big reunion don’t you? Don’t worry I’ll keep you posted.” Sam says with a smile, knowing full well that is exactly was Steve wants. Steve doesn’t want to leave, but he does have work to do, he has another lecture this evening, and he has to get some work done before hand, and he also needs to have a shower and eat something. Steve doesn’t have time to argue, before Sam is pushing him out of the front door, as he passes him his bag, and his sketchbook, and with one last look at Bucky who seems completely absorbed in Emily who is looking up at him adoringly, Steve heads home.

The entire way back, all Steve can think about is the smile on Bucky’s face, the way he was with Emily, the way he was, no is just so fucking perfect. He is smiling to himself as he climbs up the steps, not even pissed off that the elevator isn’t working today, and as Steve locks the front door behind him, his phone beeps. He doesn’t even have to check it to know it will be from Sam, who else can it be.  Unlocking his phone, he goes into his messages and smiles.

_The cub has been located._

Steve drops his sketchbook on the table and drapes his bag over the chair as he yanks open the cupboard and grabs a glass, his eyes fixated on his phone, wanting for Sam to send another text.

_Lion and lioness are here._

His phone lights up as he pours himself a glass of water, and he smiles, wishing he could be there to see this first hand.

_Granted with big creepy smiles, but they look nice enough._

Steve takes another sip as he walks to his bedroom, eyes still on his phone, waiting for Sam’s next text. He can imagine it happening, the arching of Bucky’s brow, the smile on his face, the way his eyes would... his phone beeps, disrupting his line of thought.

_Tiny human looks pleased._

Steve smile broadens, he loves when Sam calls people tiny humans.

_Daddy looks like he is going to hug Bucky._

Of course he does, who doesn’t want to hug Bucky, Steve thinks as he smiles. Grabbing a towel and a clean pair of briefs, Steve looks expectantly at his phone wanting it to light up again. He loves Sam’s recount, but he still wants to see it, he thinks it would have been better if the phone was lighting up with Bucky’s texts, and that thought makes him grin and he falls back onto his bed, grinning up at his ceiling, as he lets the feeling of happiness wrap around him and he just breathes. His phone beeps again, and he holds it up over his head, his arms outstretched as he unlocks his phone.

_Woomp there is it, a big handshake and a huge smile._

Steve wonders whether the smile is two sided, and wonders how the corners of Bucky’s lips curved, but that thought was leading him down a dangerous path, now all he could think about was Bucky’s lips... his phone beeps again and he looks up at it.

_Oh how cute Emily is hugging your man goodbye._

Steve types out a quick reply, _He’s not my man._

He smiles as he looks up at his phone, waiting for reply. He knows he should get into the shower, that he should be doing something, but he doesn’t care. Lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, with a stupidly huge smile on his face, he doesn’t mind, and all he can think about is Bucky. His phone beeps again and he smiles at the message.

_Not yet at least._

His thumb moves across the keyboard starting to type out another reply when his phone beeps again.

_Shit I see why you love him, he is freaking perfect._

Steve grins, he ponders a reply but only seconds later his phone beeps again.

_What did I just text?_

Steve laughs and waits for his phone to beep again.

_God I’m turning into you, this is frightening._

A smile on his lips so large is mouth is starting to hurt, Steve laughs again, as he tries to remember the last time he felt this happy... his phone beeps again and he stops trying to remember.

_He is pretty hot though and that smile... man oh man_

Steve is grinning as he types a quick reply, _Hands off, he’s mine._

He waits for his phone to beep again, and he closes his hands, smiling up at the ceiling, wondering how a man who has only spoken to for the first time today can make him feel like this. But the look in his eyes, the sound of his voice, it was perfect. And even though Steve was trying not to dwell on it, Bucky knew his name, he knew his name and he wasn’t wearing his name badge. That had to mean something right? His phone beeps again and his eyes shoot open.

_Anyway reunion over, the little chick has left the nest, and your boy is all alone. You should come and hug him, or whatever._

Steve smiles and quickly replies, _Don’t tempt me._

Standing up slowly, he grabs his towel and heads to the bathroom, leaving his change of clothes on his bed, he glances down, his phone still in hand, waiting for it to beep again, waiting for an update. Placing his towel on the drying rack, he turns the shower on, as he phone beeps.

_Told you you wouldn’t miss much._

Testing the temperature, Steve kicks the door shut behind him, and locks it out of habit.

_Nat’s here though, just arrived. Now that is perfection._

Steve smiles and types a single word before hitting send, _Maria?_

His phone beeps just as the message sends, and he smiles, glad that Sam will never change.

_Not that I still like her._

He is obviously meaning Nat, and Steve smiles as he adjusts the temperature, waiting for the next text.

_Maria’s gorgeous too._

Steve smiles and his mind floats back to Bucky, who is gorgeous too, those bright blue eyes and his smile, and his dark brown hair that Steve just wants to run his fingers through... his phone beeps pulling him out of his imagination.

_Maria’s utter perfection, god I should really text her. What should I say??_

Steve sighs, why on earth would Sam be asking him for relationship advice of all people. His track record wasn’t poor, it was non-existent. Plus he was completely and utterly in love with a man who had only just talked to, so he was in no position to give advice even he had had any to give, which he did not. Sure he’d seen enough rom coms and other movies to know how these things were supposed to go, but he lacked real life experience, which was ultimately what was needed here, not Hollywood advice that probably had a pretty poor rate of success in reality.

_I mean I could_

Steve looks at the message, wondering what Sam is trying to tell him with his four word message as he pulls his shirt over his head.

_Shit Furys giving me the evils, should stop texting._

Of course, his previous text was cut short. Steve smiles at the phone, as he imagines the look Fury gave Sam, the look that never failed to make Sam turn a little red and stare at his feet.

Steve types a quick reply, _See ya later._ Before he places his phone on the edge of the sink, strips off and jumps into the shower, pulling the shower door shut behind him as he adjusts the temperature quickly, he isn’t preparing for hell after all, it could be a little colder, he wasn’t a huge fan of scorching water, that would no doubt burn is skin off. Smiling as the warm water ran down him, he closes his eyes and thinks of Bucky...

**...**

The next day passes without a single interaction with Bucky. Steve doesn’t even see him, the cafe is so busy while he is working, even if Bucky made it in, he probably would not have noticed, but with Steve checking the door and scanning the tables as often as he could, he was sure Bucky wasn’t in. He had an afternoon lecture, and turned down an invite to another party, this time one of Sam’s friends from his football team was hosting one, and Steve had no interest what so ever in going, so spent his evening sketching while he watched the Dark Knight, before spending a few hours on work from his lectures.

A Bucky-less day was not at all what Steve had in mind, and as he lies awake in bed, on the brink of sleep, he wonders if he will see him the next day, wonders if yesterday when he knew his name, was something that Steve was simply making far too big a deal out of, or if it actually meant something. One day without even a glimpse of Bucky, and all could think about was the way that his name sounded rolling of the tip of his tongue.

When Sam finally came home, he found Steve asleep in bed, a small smile on his face, as he lay on his stomach, lost in a dream, a dream filled with Bucky.

**...**

Steve wouldn’t mind going out with Tony for lunch, not really, but when he gets the invite the next day, he cannot be bothered accepting the invitation. Except, he can’t not accept the invitation, Tony doesn’t really give him a choice. Obviously not getting the message when Steve doesn’t reply to his text, apart from a short, ‘Can’t today’, Tony is there waiting when Steve gets out of a class, a smile on his face and a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Uh-” Steve starts, unsure what to say. He is busy, sort of. But he doesn’t start work for another hour and a half, and while he has another assignment that he is only half way through, it isn’t due for another two days. Usually Sam is the one who ends up going out with Tony, but Sam is working, and Tony’s lecture finished only a few minutes before Steve’s, and Steve knows how Tony hates being alone for too long.

“You free for lunch?” Tony asks nonchalantly attempting to not let on how much he actually wants Steve to join him. It isn’t that he loves Steve, but he doesn’t dislike him, and he can be pretty decent company, and after a day like today, Tony is finding that company is what he needs at lunch, spending another hour trapped in his head probably won’t bode well for the early lecture he has tomorrow, that he needs to attend without a throbbing headache.

Steve hesitates, he cannot think of a single acceptable reason to turn down the lunch, and as the smile on Tony’s lips lingers for another moment, the cockiness dampened by the hopeful look in his eyes, that makes Tony seem, well, almost human, just as vulnerable as Steve, Steve isn’t sure that he wants to say no anymore.

“Come on Rogers, I know you’re burning to find out some more on your boy Barnes.” Tony grins, turning away for Steve as he speaks, knowing full well that Steve will follow, he has known him long enough to know that he won’t not come, and with the limited information Sam had given him on Steve’s relationship with Bucky, or serious lack of, he knows that Steve cannot resist the bait, he needs to know more about him, his curiosity has often gotten the better of him.

“Fine, but only for an hour.” Steve sighs, falling into stride with Tony. Part of him wonders if Tony has any information to offer him, but then again Steve will take whatever he can get, he knows basically nothing about Bucky, and despite his various attempts to find out more about him than his name and where he works, he knows nothing.

“I’m buying...” Tony starts after a few minutes of silent walking. Steve has a headphone in one ear as he walks beside Tony, whose steps are slightly slower than usual, on account of the sheer amount of books and notepads and random assorted crap in his bag today.

“If...” Steve prompts, knowing there is some sort of catch, there always is with Tony, he can’t help himself. From the glint in Tony’s eyes, he knows that there is more than one reason that he picked Steve to have lunch with, when he had at least a dozen other options, all of whom would be far less reluctant than himself, and probably far better company Steve thinks to himself. Tony doesn’t say anything for a few steps, and Steve waits, somewhat patiently for Tony to answer. They reach the cafe, still in silence, and Tony drops his bag into an empty chair, before slumping into the chair beside it. Steve lowers himself onto the seat opposite Tony, and waits.

“So Pepper...” Tony starts after a few seconds of Steve staring at him, prompting him to answer. The waitress has spotted them, and gives them a small wave, telling them she will be over in a few minutes.

“Pepper Potts? You’re keen on Pepper, shit you do-” Steve starts, before he stops. He notices the look on Tony’s face, a look that looks foreign displayed across Tony’s features, taking a small breath in, Steve stares at Tony for a second, as his brain slots into place, he remembers the party, how could he not have remembered? “You fucking like her? What? Since when?” Steve demands, his voice a little louder than usual but he doesn’t care. The two of them are sitting out the front, being bathed in sun, Steve knows he is going to get a little hot, sitting here in tight black jeans and his leather jacket. The slightly torn grey t-shirt he is wearing underneath is bound to make an appearance before the lunch is over, he won’t survive in his jacket for over an hour under the hot sun.

“I don’t l-” Tony starts, sounding somewhat unlike himself, his words don’t have the certain confidence that usually accompanies them, and the smile on Tony’s face isn’t one that Steve has ever seen him wear before. He pauses as the waitress reaches them, handing them both a menu and leaving seconds later with a promise of water and two glasses on the way.

“You fucking do, you like her, you gotta crush on her don’t ya?” Steve teases as soon as the waitress is three steps away from them, he is grinning, clearly enjoying how the tables have turned, it isn’t Tony with the upper hand anymore, this time he gets to do the teasing. Tony opens his mouth to say something, but Steve quickly adds, “I have to put up with you being an asshole, you gotta put up with me,” as he continues to grin at Tony.

“I don’t want to make you regret this Rogers.” Tony says, his usual grin returning, as the confidence starts to fill his words once again. Steve however no longer cares, he is enjoying this far too much.

“Whatcha going do Stark? You go-” Steve smirks, looking like the little shit that he can so easily be. Tony is shaking his head, and Steve’s smile only grows wider. Despite not wanting to go to lunch with Tony, he hasn’t eaten a thing and he is already enjoying it, teasing Tony is not something that he has had many opportunities for, but Tony has had plenty to tease Steve, so Steve is simply returning the favour.

“One word.” Tony says quietly, and Steve’s smile falters, the smirk itching at the corners of Tony’s mouth, is one that is far too familiar. “Bucky.” Tony smiles as Steve tries his best not to groan.  He looks down at his menu for a second before looking back up at Tony.

“And we’re done with the teasing.” Steve says sweetly, smiling over at Tony who gives a smile in reply. Shockingly, at least in Steve’s mind, the next thirty minutes is enjoyable. They spend a while making pleasant conversation, which Steve wasn’t entirely sure Tony Stark would be able to make, with him at least, and then they spent another ten minutes talking about Pepper. An entire ten minute conversation on Pepper, that Steve had to bite his tongue several times to stop himself from teasing Tony. Just as Steve predicted, his leather jacket was sitting on the back of his chair, the sun warming him just a little too much. As they lapsed into silence for a few minutes, Steve waits patiently, not wanting to seem too desperate, not wanting to bring it up, but knowing that in a matter a minutes he will. The waitress takes their plates from the table, and Tony shuffles back into his seat, his eyes fixed on Steve as the waitress walks away.

“Any updates on Wilson’s love life?” Tony asks, not saying what Steve was expecting him to, he had waited, somewhat patiently, for a little information, and none had been presented. Remaining silent, Steve gives a small shrug, his eyes resting on Tony as he waits.

“Geez Rogers, quit looking at me like that, I’ll tell you about Barnes, no need to glare.” Tony smiles, seemingly enjoying the scowl lingering at the corners of Steve’s mouth, he knows that Tony is going to tease him, it is Tony after all, but after resisting the urge to tease him, he thinks that Tony could at least return the favour.

“Bucky Barnes.” Tony says slowly. “Bucky, Barnes.” He repeats, sounding the words out as he leans back into his chair. Steve glances around them, checking that Bucky isn’t here, not that he would be, but still, Steve checks all the same, he doesn’t want him to overhear him, or possibly worse, overhear Tony.

“Tony.” Steve warns, settling into his chair as his gaze remains fixed on Tony, waiting for him to give him something, anything to go on, he needs details, he doesn’t care that he feels like a bit of a stalker, he is only lightly stalking, and he more curious than creepy, he just wants to know something, he needs to know something about Bucky, he hasn’t seen him in two days now, he needs something.

“Eager are we, you really like him don’t ya?” Tony teases, causing Steve to sigh and take a sip of water while he tries not to sigh. Truth is he does really like Bucky. Truth is he may even love Bucky. Which is ridiculous, he barely knows anything about him. But that doesn’t matter, he is gorgeous, and not just to look at, he has a kind face, a hot kind face sure, but a kind face all the same.

“I didn’t tease about Pepper.” Is all Steve says, as he falls to push the memory of Bucky and Emily out of his mind, that may have been two days ago now, but he still manages to make his insides melt.

“Because you’re nice like that, I never promised I wouldn’t tease Rogers, I said information, not niceties.” Tony grins. Steve rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his water while he waits. They sit in silence for a few seconds as Tony checks his phone, he sends out a text and then looks up at Steve, who is watching him, waiting. “What do you want to know about Barnes?” He asks.

“Do you know a Natasha?” Steve doesn’t want to ask that question, he doesn’t want to at all. He knows that they are dating, he’s seen them together, it’s completely and utterly obvious, but part of him wants confirmation, because there is a tiny part of him that hopes, foolishly and naively, hopes that perhaps they aren’t dating, which means he has a shot. Tony of course, knows none of this as he scans his own brain, thinking of all of the Natasha’s he knows.

“Red hair, blue eyes, looks like she could kill you, absolutely stunning, and is utterly lethal?” Tony asks, settling on the only Natasha that he knows who lives around here. Steve nods, and Tony smiles before he adds, “That’s Natasha Romanoff. Everyone’s either in love with her, or shit scared, sometimes both. Why’d you ask?”

“No reason.” Steve says, his voice far quieter than he intended. The look of adoration of Tony’s face at the mere mention of her name does not bode well for Steve, if he thinks she is so amazing, surely Steve doesn’t have a chance in hell with Bucky, who obviously isn’t shit scared of her, so he must be completely in love with her, and if she has any sense, Steve thinks, she will be completely in love with Bucky. The waitress approaches the table again, and Tony pays, while Steve sits in silence.

“Barely any free time that boy.” Tony says after a few seconds of silence, with Steve lost in thought and Tony wanting to have captured slightly more of Steve’s attention than he currently has, he knows Steve is thinking about Bucky, and despite pretending not to be at all interested in Steve’s love life, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, it’s good to see Steve happy.

“How do you know?” Steve asks, pushing some, but not all, thoughts of Bucky, slightly to the side. He needs to see him smile, he needs, well whatever he can get, and for now information is all he is going to get.

“Never comes to parties.” Tony answers, his tone implying that perhaps that is meant to be a bad thing, but in Steve’s eye, that is just another thing that he loves about Bucky.

“Maybe he isn’t social like you.” Steve says, a small smile growing on his lips. He toys with the idea for a few seconds, toys with the idea of the two of them snuggled up on the couch watching Netflix, eating pizza and pretending the world outside the apartment doesn’t exist.

“That isn’t it.” Tony says, snatching Steve’s dream straight out of his head and crushing it. Steve sighs, and tries to hold onto that image, the image of them on the couch together, but it’s too late, it’s gone.

“How do you know?” Steve says, almost demanding.

“When are you going to accept that I know everything?” Is all Tony says in reply, and as the waitress returns, Tony gives her cash before resting his eyes on Steve, waiting for Steve to agree with him, waiting for Steve to give up waiting, and prompt him for more.

“Then enlighten me.”

“He works at h&m...” Tony starts.

“I know that already.” Steve sighs. He wants new information, he needs new information. No, he needs Bucky, but Bucky has Natasha, Bucky would never go for him, not as a boyfriend, and certainly not as friend. But Bucky is an addiction, and Steve needs more.

“If you shut up and let me finish...”

“Fine.” Steve sighs again. This was the Tony he was familiar with, not the one that made pleasant conversation, but the one who could be a total pain in the ass, the one who loved attention, and enjoyed dragging a story on.

“Do you want to know? Because if you keep interrupting I wo-” Tony replies, fighting to keep the smile off his face, and failing miserably as he smirks at Steve who gives another exasperated sigh.

“Tony.” Steve says softly, a glare touching the corners of his eyes.

“He’s doing med, planning on being a surgeon, and is well on his way from what I’ve heard.” Tony says. Steve’s expression falls even further. Surgeon, right, that means potential god complex, that means genius, that means he is way of his league, utterly out of his league.

“So he’s like crazy smart? That’s brilliant, just brilliant.” Steve groans. His head falls into his hands as he sighs. Sure Bucky has a girlfriend, well, probably, almost definitely, but now Steve doesn’t even have a small chance, at all. Tony sighs, somewhat loudly, and as Steve remains slumped over on the table looking utterly defeated, Tony sighs again.

“Look I don’t want to have to say this, but since Sam isn’t here to get all soppy with you, you gotta hear it from me. Firstly, shut your goddamn mouth.” Tony’s words are weighted, and he is talking far more slowly than usual, and as Steve half listens, Tony tries his best to be kind.

“What?” Steve looks up from the table, staring up at Tony, as he raises his eyebrow, wondering what on earth Tony is on about now.

“Secondly, you are a catch.” Tony says with a smile, before he adds, “Well sorta.”

“Thanks.” Steve says sarcastically.

“Look... miss?” Tony starts, before he looks around the faces that surround them, he is waving at a young brunette now, who is not so patiently waiting for her coffee to arrive, and seems somewhat disinterested in her own conversation. Steve groans, this cannot end well, Tony has never done this before, but Steve can imagine.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Steve mutters, his voice low as he leans across the table, the woman is standing up from her chair and walking towards them now, her eyes on them, almost assessing.

“Shut up Steve.” Tony mutters back before turning to face the brunette who has almost reached their table. “Would you consider my friend hot?” He asks as she stops in front of them, looking down at them expectantly.

“Uhh-” She starts, her cheeks going slightly red as she looks from Steve to Tony, then back again, wondering what to say.

“Yes or no?” Tony cuts across, he cannot be bothered waiting for her to think it out, he just wants an answer, sometime today would be nice, but he considers saying that might only annoy her.

“You don’t have to ans-” Steve starts softly, trying to hide the scowl on his face, the scowl that he wishes to direct straight at Tony, but as the smug look on Tony’s face only grows, Steve instead stares at the woman in front of him.

“Yes.” She decides, smiling at Steve before smiling at Tony.

“Thanks.” Tony says in reply, waving the woman off. She lingers for a moment, thinking possibly that one of them is going to ask her out, ask for her phone number, or give her one of theirs before she leaves. But as Tony looks around the cafe, and Steve tries not to blush, she realises that none of what she wishes is a possibility, and heads to her seat.

“Excuse me, could I just-” Tony starts, as he beckons to a guy about their age, who is wearing a baseball hat, the wrong way around, and worse still, he is actually sitting inside. Steve isn’t picky about a lot of things, but hats inside, especially hats the wrong way around inside, just does something to him, and not something good, he absolutely despises them. The guy seems nice enough though, and not everyone can be perfect, but Steve doesn’t let the hat thing go.  “Is he hot?” Tony asks.

“Dude I’m n-” The guy starts, looking scandalized, and almost a touch insulted. Tony fails to conceal a sigh, and Steve is feeling somewhat less sympathetic towards this guy than he did the chick.

“I’m not questioning your sexuality, calm down, I just want to know if you think he is good looking.” Tony says in a bored tone. He motions over a Steve, and the guy looks Steve up in down, a little more critically than Steve had been prepared for.

“Yeah.” The guy shrugs, rather noncommittally.

“Yeah?” Tony repeats, looking up at him, demanding a more concrete answer. Steve is blushing a little bit now, well a little bit more than he was already, and kicks Tony under the table, who ignores him. “I’m not asking if you get a hard on when you see him, just is he-” Steve kicks him harder this time and Tony pauses.

“Your friends hot. You’re hot.” He says first to Tony and then he looks at Steve and gives him a small smile before he glances back at Tony, almost asking permission to walk away, he wants to go and sit down.

“Thanks.” Tony says, waving him off with a flick of his hand. The man turns and heads away from their table, and Steve is still blushing, but is now somewhat glaring at Tony.

“What exactly was that supposed to prove?” Steve almost hisses. This is exactly why he hates having lunch with Tony, or Sam, well any of his friends really, they seem to enjoy taking opportunities to embarrass him in multiple ways, and today was no exception.

“Look they both say you’re hot. You seem to have a certain allure I guess, you can be considered smart, and you are nice and shit. Look, Barnes would be lucky to have you.” Tony says, shrugging as he says it. Without Sam here, he needs to be the nice one, he needs to be the one telling Steve that although he is completely insecure, he doesn’t have any reason to doubt himself so much.

“Naaaw Ton, you looove me.” Steve coos, grinning at Tony.

“I-” Tony starts, his turn now to glare, annoyed by Steve, although to be completely honest, he has been expecting it, there was only so much Steve would put up with before acting like the little shit he can so often be.

“You can deny it, but we’re totally besties now.” Steve grins, his fingers curling around his glass as he raises it to his lips, he pauses as he takes a sip, and Tony is now giving him a soft glare.

“I’m going to...” Tony starts, looking amused by Steve as he takes a sip of his water. He has known Steve long enough, far too long he sometimes reckons, but long enough to know that Steve is still a sarcastic little shit, no matter how tall and broad he has become.

“Make us friendship bracelets?” Steve cuts in, grinning at Tony.

“I can see why you get beaten up so much.” Tony sighs, a smile in his eyes.

“Love you too Ton.” Steve continues to grin, even though Tony could be an asshole, and he was a little more of Sam’s friend than he was Steve’s friend, Steve still considered Tony to be one of his closest friends.

“I take it back, you suck, he will hate you.”

“You looove me.” Steve continues, grinning as he ignores Tony’s remark, he is starting to laugh now, and Tony continues to watch him, a tell-tale smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, that is set in mock annoyance, well at least half mock annoyance, maybe half real annoyance.

“I am never taking you for lunch again.” Tony says with a shake of his head, wondering why he picked Steve to take to lunch today. But as Steve continues to grin, Tony realises he needed Steve being an annoying little shit today, this was exactly what he needed.

“Yes you will, because you love me.” Steve smiles, Tony shrugs and looks down at his phone again, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

Five minutes later they are standing up, Steve’s jacket draped over his arm as he looks at Tony expectantly, waiting for something, waiting... Tony raises his eyebrow as he stuffs his phone into his back pocket and repositions his bag, Steve sighs in response.

“There’s something you aren’t telling me. Something about Bucky.” Steve says. It has been obvious for the last ten minutes, obvious that there is something that Tony is not telling him, there is something that Tony knows, something that he won’t tell him, and for the life of him, Steve doesn’t have a single inkling about what that might be.

“Yeah there’s a tonne of stuff. Like did you know his favourite colour is blue? Or th-” Tony starts, a smile dancing on his lips, he knows exactly what Steve is talking about, he does, but he was trying not to make it too obvious, it is Steve’s fault that he is so perceptive about things, although he can be so oblivious about others.

“Tony.” Steve warns. He needs to get to work, but he can’t go, not without knowing.

“You know those protests you lark on about at least twice a-” Tony starts, his gaze settling on something to the right of Steve, Steve was right, there was something that Tony didn’t tell him, wouldn’t tell him, couldn’t tell him.

“They ar-” Steve sighs.

“Barnes’ does them too.” Tony finishes, cutting across Steve as he gaze flicks back to Steve and he gives him a small smile as Steve’s eyes light up.

“He, really? Wait, that isn’t it!” Steve grins before he stops, his eyes brush over Tony’s expression and it’s clear that wasn’t what Tony was keeping from him, that wasn’t it at all.

“Look I’m not a total asshole, everyone has secrets that only they are allowed to tell.” And with that Tony turned, walking down the street away from Steve who was left standing, staring after him, not really focused on Tony who got smaller and smaller, but what could possibly be something that Tony had refused to tell him, something that was completely Bucky’s business. Tony told everyone everything, he didn’t care, so what was this, something that even Tony refused to share without Bucky knowing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first stucky au, I hope you liked how it is going... lemme know what you think.  
> Completely and utterly unbeta-d so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.  
> You can find me on tumblr under the same name.  
> (Sorry about the confusion, this fic will have multiple chapters, completely forgot to mark it accordingly when I posted it)


	2. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is fine, fine for a few hits, he was winning, but then another guy joins. This other guy comes from behind Steve, and Steve cannot turn around in time, not fast enough to block it, perhaps he would have been if he wasn’t distracted, only for a moment, he wasn’t sure what distracted him, but before he could figure it out he was down on the ground, his head burning, and blood pooling in his mouth. Somehow it almost always ends this way, Steve on the ground, with a few of them on him, but there is only two of them, he can easily take them. The first guy looms over him and Steve takes a quick breath, ready for round two.
> 
> Except he doesn’t get a chance, the other man kicks him again, and when he draws his leg back, gearing up for a second kick, something catches his foot, and all of a sudden the man is on the ground besides Steve, whimpering as he clutches his nose that blood is now leaking from. Steve glances up and his heart stops in his chest.

Life is interesting sure, but as two more days pass, two long days, two more Bucky-less days, life is not at all interesting for Steve. He gets invited to another party, but instead decides to spend the night lounging on the couch watch lord of the rings and eating pizza. He hands in an assignment, heads to lectures, goes for a run, and of course heads to work. Work is dull, the queues are long, the people are annoyed and annoying, and he doesn’t see Bucky, there is no sigh of Bucky, and he is hoping to run into him. He spends almost the entirety of those two days wondering what Tony had meant, wondering what Tony knew but wasn’t telling him, he didn’t want to pry but after two days without seeing Bucky, or even Tony, he can no longer resist.

 _Give me a clue._ He sends, his phone in his hand, under the counter as he serves a brunette.

 _No wait, don’t tell me._ He sends a few seconds after.

 _Just a hint._ He cannot refrain from sending another text, he needs to know. He resisted for two whole days, well almost two full days, and he had been mulling over possibility over possibility for hours, and he is giving up guessing.

 _Please._ Tony still hadn’t replied to any of his texts, but as Steve still couldn’t figure out whether he wants to know or not, he is glad he hasn’t answered, well sort of.

 _No don’t._ He sends a few seconds after as he shakes his head, he doesn’t need to know, this is Bucky’s business, not his.

 _Shit._ Despite himself, he still needs to know.

_What the fuck aren’t you telling me?_

His screen lights up, and Steve opens the message in seconds, then sighs as he reads Tony’s text. _Rogers you’re giving me whiplash. Quit begging, I ain’t telling you._

 _I don’t want to know anyway._ Steve quickly types out in reply.

 _Except I do._ He doesn’t even register that he is sending another text until he hits send. He needs to know, but he doesn’t really want to know... god this is infuriating.

 _Why did you even have to mention it??_ Steve sends in desperation, wishing that he wasn’t guessing, that this wasn’t driving him nuts.

_I didn’t you brought it up._

_Wait aren’t you meant to be working?_ Steve sighs, Tony’s right he is meant to be working, but as usual he can’t focus.

 _Goodness Rogers, you really are in looove._ Steve frowns slightly and tucks his phone into his back pocket, texting Tony isn’t getting him anywhere. He doesn’t want to know anyway, except he does, he has to know, but he doesn’t... shit. Staring into space, he tries to decide whether he wants to continue to pry....

“Steve!” Sam repeats, trying not to scowl at Steve who has been staring into space for the last few minutes. Steve’s hand is hovering over a half filled page in his sketchbook, full of doodles and little sketches,  and he has been trying to picture Bucky, and while doing so, lost himself in his head. He is desperate now, he wants to find out where Bucky works, he must work in the mall, and after three days since Emily, since the cutest most amazing thing that Steve has ever seen, he has seen no sign of Bucky. He spent a whole day theorizing how Bucky knew his name, contemplating how he would know it without his name tag on, but that was days ago now, now he didn’t care about the name tag, now all he wants to do is gaze adoringly at Bucky from afar, feeling jealously rise in his stomach as he watches Nat and Bucky together, and get to see the smile touch Bucky’s face. Plus he really wants to know what Tony wasn’t telling him.

Sam gives up and heads back into the kitchen, and Steve is left alone for another five minutes, alone with his sketchbook, alone with his thoughts. The queue isn’t busy now, so he can draw, this place won’t fill up for another hour at least, he has plenty of time to sit and sketch with his mind on Bucky...

“That is amazing.” Steve swivels, looking over his shoulder and his heart stops in his chest when he sees Bucky standing behind him, his blue eyes bright and widened as he stares down at Steve’s sketch book, a smile already touching his lips. Steve’s ears go pink as he shifts his gaze from Bucky’s lips and back to his eyes, which is a bad idea he decides, before he turns to look down at his sketch book.

“Oh uh-” Steve starts, not sure what else to say, no one has really ever commented on his work, well they have but none with a tone the same as Bucky’s, as he marvels at Steve’s work ,his smiling increasing as he leans forward. His shoulder is resting against Steve’s. Steve’s breathing tightens and he fights within himself, to stop himself from shaking, as he feels Bucky’ breath on him and Steve does everything he can to focus on his sketch book and not explode.

“Is that west campus?” Bucky asks, his voice low as he is right next to Steve’s ear. Not trusting himself to speak, Steve nods slowly, wondering if he will ever be able to speak around him. His eyes glued to the paper, he can feel Bucky’s eyes on the sketch book, turning his face only slightly, he turns a deeper shade of red when he notices the fascinated look on Bucky’s face. “May I?” Bucky asks, his hand hovering on the corner of the page, Steve nods again, as his mind empties of all words. Bucky is silent for a few seconds, and Steve watches him nervously, wishing he could think of something to say, anything to say.

“You are really fucking talented, this stuff is exceptional, I mean...” Bucky trails off, a huge smile on his face and a look of awe in his eyes as his eyes focus on Steve’s drawings, even the little sketches, he sees everything, and Steve can tell from the look on his face that he means every word. That the errors and all of the little stupid mistakes he sees, Bucky is either blatantly ignoring or can’t even see them. Bucky slowly digests what he sees, as his eyes notice everything, his eyes following every curve and flick of the pen, analysing it like it was at the museum, and as Steve realises it, he blushes a deeper shade of red. Bucky’s nimble fingers are lifting up the corner of the page as his eyes slide over the page one more time, and Steve realises his mistake. But it’s too late. Bucky flips the page over and Steve’s voice catches.

“Is this-” Bucky starts, his bright blue eyes thankfully still on the page, the page of the sketchbook that Steve had forgotten, of course he had forgotten, Bucky was standing beside him, leaning against his shoulder, his breath on his skin and his lips close enough to kiss. With all of that, the overwhelming feeling of Bucky standing beside him he forgot that after that page of mini sketches and doodles was a page dedicated to Bucky. Sure his name wasn’t accompanying the sketches, but the likeness was enough, and Steve was blushing and his heart was pounding and he knew he had to say something.

“I draw customers-” Steve interrupts, as he silently wishes the floor to open up and swallow him whole, or for the lights to dim to cover the red in his cheeks.

“So I’m not special?” Bucky grins. His eyes flicking up, sparkling mischievously at Steve, before they flick back down to stare at the sketch book Steve wants to rip out of his hands, especially before he turns two more pages. He knows what is on the page after next, and he hopes that Bucky never well.

“Uhh.” Steve stammers, not knowing what to say, or how to say it. Bucky grins at him, instantly relaxing Steve but also making him more nervous at the same time, forgetting to breath Steve adds hurriedly, “Sometimes on slow days I draw customers, you’re pretty regular so-”

“Regularly featured in here or a regular customer.” Bucky asks, an amused smile on his face covering an almost unreadable expression. “I guess both.” Bucky answers for himself as he turns the page, his smile growing as Steve turns slightly redder, if that is indeed possible. Honestly Bucky is the only customer he’s drawn, and in the past two weeks, ever since he walked in, he’s drawn him at least half a dozen times, sometimes in tiny sketches and sometimes, like on the page Bucky is currently drinking in, an entire page devoted to him.

“I uh-” Steve stammers, trying to determine what Bucky is thinking. He knows that people hate being drawn, he knows that they have certain features they hate, and he knows that Bucky doesn’t even know him, and is probably a little apprehensive about Steve secretly drawing him.

“At least you got my good side.” Bucky jokes, smiling up at Steve before his eyes explore the page in front of him, the same look of awe on his face, his eyes light up and Steve is once again too distracted by Bucky to say what pops into his mind, _Good side?,_   Steve thinks, _is he kidding?_

“You are seriously talented, this is exceptional if I may say so myself.” Bucky adds, oblivious to the thoughts in Steve’s head, as he looks up and hands Steve’s sketch book back to him. He can read Steve’s expression, well he thinks he can, although he is right about one thing, Steve does not want him to turn over the page.

“You don’t mind?” Steve asks. His voice louder than he expected but part of him is just surprised he managed to get the words out at all.

“Not at all. You should ask me to pose next time though.” Bucky answers. Steve’s hands cling to the notebook as Bucky grins at him before he steps backwards and adds, “Whatever you do, don’t stop.” He turns before Steve has a chance to blush.

Just a few days ago he helped the most adorable little girl, and today he was looking over Steve’s shoulder at his artwork, his lips were close enough to kiss, and Steve felt almost drunk at the memory of Bucky standing so close, the smile on his face when he examined Steve’s art, the way he smelt, he was just...

God I hate him, Steve groans. Why does he have to be so damn perfect?

**...**

"They are so dating." Steve moans and Sam can't say anything that will ease his mind, how can he, the two of them had been sitting at a table with two other people chatting and laughing away but they weren't as comfortable with the others even though they were clearly friends, good friends even. Steve sighs again before turning to the kitchen, wondering if he will ever fall for someone who has a chance of liking him back. He hates seeing the two of them together, as it is a constant reminder that he will never be good enough, that Bucky will never feel for him the way Steve feels about Bucky, that he will never be able to make Bucky laugh like that, that he will never...  Which is insane because he doesn’t know him, they’ve barely even spoken, except he feels like he does, he feels like he knows him.

Sighing again, Steve checks his watch, he only has another two hours to go before his shift is over, and then he can head to the gym for an hour before going back to his apartment and doing some work before sleeping. The next few hours were going to drag he just knows it. And as Bucky erupts into laughter again, Steve’s heart pounds and he wonders if he will ever be able to hear that laugh and not ache for Bucky, a man he barely knows, but god he wants to.

It has been four days since Bucky looked over his shoulder, since he was close enough to kiss, close enough to touch, and Steve needs more, more of anything. Glancing over at Bucky, listening to him laugh, seeing him smile, is enough, almost, he needs more, but he knows this is all he is going to get.

**...**

Two days later, two long days, he still hasn’t spoken to Bucky.

To be fair, he has barely been at work, an assignment is due and he spends more time running and working than relaxing. At work, the queues are long, the cafe is full, and he catches sight of Bucky from afar, but across the crowded noisy room, he can’t even see Bucky’s smile, let alone catch his laugh.

To make matters worse, well not worse exactly, but Sam has already been on three dates with Maria, and spends almost every waking minute gushing about her. It makes Steve happy to see Sam so happy, so excited, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t jealous, that Sam is in a relationship, a two sided one, whereas he is simply pining over Bucky Barnes, who couldn’t be less available to him.

Heading into work on Tuesday afternoon, Steve cuts through the park. He didn’t intend to, not really, but he was lost in thought, not thinking about the next assignment he was due to have started a week ago, but about Bucky, how could he not. He hadn’t seen him all day, all he could do was think about him.

What he finds there, in the park, is not a scene he is entirely unfamiliar with, and what follows is not at all his fault. The important thing is that only one person got hurt, well sort of, and they totally deserved it. But Steve wasn’t fast enough this time, and as he rushes behind the counter, his hand on his elbow he wonders how he managed to scrape it so badly on the concrete. Sam is shaking his head at him, he knows what happened, how could he not, but his shaking head isn’t helping and for the life of him Steve cannot remember where the bandages are.

“Hey you okay?” Bucky’s voice comes from behind the counter. Without looking up, Steve knows Bucky is leaning forward, and as Steve continues cleaning out the cut in his arm and blood streams down his hand, he can’t afford to be focused on Bucky. Sure he isn’t the skinny kid anymore, so he can lose more blood without feeling faint but that doesn’t mean he is fine with bleeding all over the ground, especially since he will be the one having to clean it up.

“Yeah I’m fine, just bleeding.” Steve answers, glancing up at Bucky he catches the tea towel that Sam throws over to him, he just catches Sam’s sigh and glares at him for a second before he presses the tea towel to his arm.  

“You sure? That looks-” Bucky starts, his voice soft as his eyes flicker down to where the tea towel is already turning red.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle. Can I get you anything?” Steve says firmly. It’s not that he wants to seem tough, it’s just that he has seen much worse, when he was smaller and got his ass kicked on an almost daily basis, this was nothing in comparison. All he needs is a bandage and he will be fine.

“If you say so. Nah I’m fine, Nat’s still deciding.” Bucky smiled, before turning on the heel of his foot and heading off towards Natasha. Steve already feels a dull ache in his chest, knowing that they won’t talk for another few days, but he can’t deny that he is glad to watch him go, and is especially pleased Bucky was wearing his dark blue skinny jeans and short grey jumper that doesn’t’ obscure Steve’s view.

“Here you go.” Sam says a bandage in hand. He tears it open and hands it to Steve who roughly plasters it against his skin, wondering why this out of everything, has become a recurring thing, a normalcy in his life, patching himself up after getting into another fight, that he couldn’t simply ignore.

“They are so dating.” Steve mutters, just loud enough so Sam can hear him. Sam gives him a small smile, and rests his hand on his shoulder for a moment, giving it a squeeze before letting go and heading back into the kitchen.

**...**

The next day passes, completely uneventfully, Tony manages to procure a date with Pepper, and Steve spent the afternoon, attempting to calm Tony down, on account of his predate nerves. For a cocky guy, he had a surprising amount of anxiety about certain things, but Steve had no issue spending a few hours immersed in Tony’s problems, and forgetting his own. As he lay awake in bed, on the brink of sleep, Steve thought of Bucky, wondering if the next day will be Bucky-less too. He has had more Bucky-less days than Bucky days lately, but that doesn’t help Steve to think about him less, no on the contrary, he simply thinks of him more, wondering what he is doing, antagonizing over everything, and pining after him throughout the day. His fingers curled around his pillow as he drifts off, Steve smiles as he wonders what it would feel like to fall asleep beside Bucky.

**...**

It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t. This guy was harassing another person, the smaller guy was utterly defenceless, and when the blonde threw the first punch, the smaller man cowered against the wall, accepting his beating, realising he couldn’t do anything to stop it. So of course Steve couldn’t simply stand by and do nothing.

“Run.” Steve says simply to the brunette, the smaller man, who gives him a quick nod of thanks before he runs off down the alleyway, towards the busy street. Maybe Steve takes the shortcuts as a subconscious way of seeking out these fights. He knows where the bullies like to bully, as he often spent his time lying on the concrete groaning, in various states of injury in places such as these. And this alleyway is no different, cut off from view, well slightly, nobody bothers to look down here.

“What the fuck do you want?” The blonde demands, he is glaring after the brunette who is almost out of sight, before he turns to face Steve, his hands raised, as he takes a step towards Steve, ready to punch him. Steve’s arms are up in a defensive position, he doesn’t want to fight, not really, but he will do what needs to be done.

He is fine, fine for a few hits, he was winning, but then another guy joins. This other guy comes from behind Steve, and Steve cannot turn around in time, not fast enough to block it, perhaps he would have been if he wasn’t distracted, only for a moment, he wasn’t sure what distracted him, but before he could figure it out he was down on the ground, his head burning, and blood pooling in his mouth. Somehow it almost always ends this way, Steve on the ground, with a few of them on him, but there is only two of them, he can easily take them. The first guy looms over him and Steve takes a quick breath, ready for round two.

Except he doesn’t get a chance, the other man kicks him again, and when he draws his leg back, gearing up for a second kick, something catches his foot, and all of a sudden the man is on the ground besides Steve, whimpering as he clutches his nose that blood is now leaking from.  Steve glances up and his heart stops in his chest. Perhaps this was the distraction, he must have seen him in the corner of his eye, but now, now he was right in front of him, an odd look on his face.

“Clear out.” Bucky says, his voice calm and steady, and even just the sound of it, makes Steve feel happy, he hasn’t heard him, let alone seen him in almost two days now, but as Steve looks up at him, the expression on Bucky’s face is unfamiliar to him, even after weeks of watching him, in a total friendly non creepy way.

Despite everything, Steve smiles up at him, but Bucky only has eyes for the man standing in front of him, the man who looks as though he believes he can take Bucky, and Steve isn’t sure that he is right, but then again, this man could easily take him, there was one way to find out... The man groaning on the concrete besides Steve pulls himself to his feet as the other man draws his arm back, ready to punch him.

Almost sounding like metal on skin, Bucky must be wearing a ring on his left hand Steve notes, as Bucky’s hand catches the fist that flies towards him. He easily twists his arm around, and the man in front of him sinks to his knees. Nodding to the man beside him, who backs away from where Steve is lying, the man fails to conceal something close to a whine as Bucky’s grip tightens on him for only a second. Bucky lets go of his hand, letting the man almost fall backwards before he quickly stands up and runs down towards the street, his friend running after him.

“Hey.” Steve says weakly, completely unsure what he should be saying in this circumstance. His hand goes to the back of his head, touching it delicately, before bringing his hand back in front of him. He smiles, as he looks at his hand relieved at the lack of blood on it. Bucky looks down at him, extends his hand out to him as his left hand slips into his pocket.

“You okay?” Steve is barely breathing and not because he is hurt, no, because Bucky’s hand is still in his. Steve is upright now, so Bucky’s hand is no longer required but his right hand still claps Steve’s, and Steve is desperately trying not to act like an idiot, sweat profusely, or hyperventilate.

“No life sustaining injuries.” Steve answers as he reluctantly lets go of Bucky’s hand and dusts himself off. Bucky leans over and picks up Steve’s bag off the ground and hands it to him. Steve unzips his bag and pulls out his phone, breathing a sigh of relief as he turns it over in his hands, completely unscathed, he scans his bag, and finds nothing broken. As he slings his bag back over his shoulder, he wonders what to say, he needs to say something, as Bucky lingers in front of him, both hands in his jacket pockets, Steve needs to say something, he has too. “Uh you- uh- thirsty?” He manages to push out before he mentally kicks himself, and adds, “I don’t have concussion I swear, do you wanna maybe grab a drink or something?” Bucky smiles at that, and Steve can physically feel his heart melting, god he wants to kiss that smile right off of his face.

“For saving your ass?” Bucky answers as he smirks at Steve.

“I had ‘em on the ropes.” Steve says adamantly. He takes a step forward, almost hesitantly, but Bucky takes a step forward too, and for a few seconds they walk in silence, with Steve chewing on his bottom lip wondering if he should something else, while also needing to pinch himself, how is this actually happening?

“This time I actually believe you.” Bucky replies softly. Steve can’t tear his eyes away from his face, and even when he almost trips on the corner of a crate, he still can’t tear his eyes away from Bucky, who has a smile shadowing his features, and his lips are almost close enough to kiss...

“This time?” Steve manages to answer, his voice catches in his throat as Bucky’s tongue slips between his lips and he draws it slowly across the bottom one, staring ahead of them, almost oblivious to Steve just about to start drooling beside him.

“I care to imagine this isn’t your first fight. The day before yesterday, you were bleeding from another, uh encounter?” Bucky answers, turning to look at him as they walk down the street, Steve tears his gaze away from Bucky’s lips and looks into his eyes, but that doesn’t help matters at all, Bucky’s blue eyes seem to be drawing Steve in and he has to look away before his brain shuts down completely and he just stares at Bucky lustfully. Bucky is following Steve, who is following Bucky, so they are just walking forward.

“You should have seen the other guy.” Is all Steve says in reply. Bucky gives him a small smile, and walks beside him in silence for a few seconds, while Steve gets up the nerve to say something anything that isn’t I love you, you are absolutely gorgeous, and oh the things I would do to you... instead of I love you he opts for, “Where do you wanna go?” Steve asks before it hits him, Bucky didn’t actually say yes. “If you wanna go, I don’t mind if you don’t, that’s totally cool too, I just, I kn-” Steve rambles, willing himself to shut up but not actually being able to do so.

“Coffee sounds good, and I don’t mind where we go.” Bucky says, mercifully cutting Steve off before he managed to make a fool, or at least more of a fool of himself. The soft smile on Bucky’s lips that reaches his eyes is making Steve weak in the knees, so he looks away and glances at the signs around him.

Steve frankly doesn’t give a shit where they go, Bucky could suggest the sewer and he would smile and say that was a brilliant idea, but instead opts for, “Anywhere but Shield. It’s too far from here, plus I spend enough time there as is, and I may have to make the fucking coffee if we go there.” And resists the urge to tell him how glad he is that they are getting coffee together, that he can barely control his tongue, let alone his brain when he is this close to Bucky, and tell him how much he wants to kiss his soft, pink lips...

“You sure you don’t have concussion?” Bucky asks, a smile on the corners of his lips, Steve shakes his head and looks up at Bucky, realising that he had zoned out completely for a few seconds, and had stopped walking, his eyes trained to Bucky’s lips. Bucky unconsciously, or perhaps consciously, slides his tongue out of his mouth again and quickly draws it over his bottom lip and Steve is having a difficult time remembering how to speak.

“I’m Bucky by the way.” Bucky says suddenly, extending his right hand, his left still tucked into his pocket.

Steve bites back an ‘I know’ and instead opts for, “Steve,” as he holds out his hand and shakes Bucky’s hoping to god that his hand isn’t as sweaty as it feels.

Twenty minutes later they are sitting in a coffee shop, with half drunk coffees sitting in front of them. The place is essentially empty, only half a dozen tables occupied, and Steve and Bucky are sitting near the corner, on opposite sides of a booth. Despite himself, Steve is talking, actually maintaining a conversation without fucking up too many words, he has full control of his tongue, but he may have lost it each time Bucky raised his coffee to his lips and took a sip.

“So what are you studying?” Bucky asks, giving Steve a small smile, and Steve tries not to melt, he can feel his body shaking under Bucky’s blue eyed gaze. He loves his eyes, he can’t not and as he looks into them, he forgets that Bucky asked him a question. Blinking and then yelling at himself to answer he looks away from Bucky and down at his coffee cup that he is holding firmly with both hands, almost letting it ground him.

“Art. I want to work at Disney, doing animations, drawings, whatever, anything really, I just want...” Steve answers, somewhat amazed that he is yet again able to construct a sentence and actually manage get it out of his mouth, while he is sitting oh so close to Bucky. The last twenty minutes of conversation, had been perfect, utterly perfect, sure it was just small talk, but it was with Bucky, and Steve was practically in heaven.

“To feel the magic?” Bucky smiles, and Steve’s heart stops for a second, Bucky looks gorgeous like this, and Steve has to look down at his coffee cup again, not able to focus. Bucky has his left arm resting on his lap, hidden beneath the table, and his right hand is resting on the table. He looks so relaxed in his jumper, blood red in colour, as he sits half slumped in his chair.  For the fourth time in the last few minutes, Steve is glad that the table covers his lap.

“Yeah, I know it sounds cheesy...” Steve starts, he feels so comfortable sitting across the table from Bucky, their feet almost touching. Sure Steve has barely talked to him before this, but Bucky somehow makes Steve feel like he is genuinely interested, and also makes him almost completely relaxed, apart from the fact that Bucky is utterly gorgeous and amazing, and Steve is fighting to maintain control of his brain every time he looks over at him.

“It kinda ruins your look.” Bucky interrupts, his voice slightly quieter than usual, and he almost looks... nervous? No he can’t be, Steve decides, he cannot be nervous, this is Bucky, god, he is gorgeous... shaking his head a little bit, he pulls himself out his thoughts and looks up at Bucky again.

“My look?” Steve repeats, his eyebrow slightly raised. Bucky lifts his cup to his lips and takes a sip, leaving Steve to wonder how the simple act of drinking looks so well, sexy when Bucky does it. He feels stupid for even thinking that, but as Bucky swallows, Steve forces himself to think with his brain.

“The punk-esque look you have going on.” Bucky smiles, eyeing Steve’s leather jacket which is lying on the seat next to him.

“Well I-” Steve starts as he glances down at himself, noting his black skinny jeans which have a hole in the knee and his blink-182 t-shirt with a slight tear in it is stained with blood, but not badly, just a little from the result of today’s ‘encounter’.

“You beat people up-” Bucky starts, and Steve is trying his best not to be distracted by the smile on his lips, his lips that...

“I do not!” Steve cuts him off, suddenly remembering how to speak, his gaze still lingers on Bucky’s lips, but he is able to tear his gaze away after a few seconds to look Bucky in the eyes, his bright blue eyes, that Steve is trying his best not to stare into too affectionately.

“You so do.”

“They fucking deserve it though, isn’t my fault the-”  Steve defends, his voice a little louder than he had intended, but it doesn’t matter, the place is almost empty and Bucky’s smile is growing and Steve feels his face grow hot, and it isn’t from anger, it’s from the way Bucky is looking at him right now.

“You swear like a fucking sailor, and you’re a sarcastic shit-” Bucky cuts across him, smiling, almost, wait no, fondly? At Steve, and Steve cannot stop himself from grinning, it has only being twenty minutes and Bucky seems to already know Steve...

“I ju-” Steve starts, not entirely sure what he is going to say, but from the look on Bucky’s face he knows he is going to cut him off anyway.

“Who would’ve thought you were a knight in well ridiculously tight jeans.” Bucky grins and Steve blushes even though he wills himself not to, his eyes downcast, he can feel Bucky’s gaze lingering on him.

“I am not-” Steve answers, biting on his bottom lips as he does.

“I think it’s hot-” Bucky says lightly, and Steve’s heart stops.

“The punk-esque look or the-” Steve manages to get out, surprising himself that he is coherent and his voice is steady, plus he manages to have a sly smile touching his lips, even though his brain is almost squealing at the words that just slipped out of Bucky’s mouth.

“Both.” Bucky smirks, and Steve feels like blushing but instead, he conceals the pounding of his heart and continues looking straight into Bucky’s eyes, attempting not to be lost in them, as he marvels at the fact he can still think, just.

“What are you studying?” Steve asks, even though he already knows the answer, he knows that Bucky wants to be a surgeon, and is well on his well, at least according to Tony, but he asks him all the same, not wanting to seem creepy or disinterested.

“Medicine.” Bucky says, his finger tracing the rim on his coffee cup and he looks over at Steve.

“No shit.” Steve answers. He loves watching Bucky, and he cannot believe that Bucky is sitting across from him, so close to him, their knees almost touching under the table, he cannot believe that Bucky is talking to him.

“Shit. Surgeon, probably peds.” Bucky is looking down at his cup now, his right hand trembles slightly and he wraps it around his cup, raising the cup to his lips and draining the contents, he doesn’t notice the way Steve is looking at him.

“You’re almost finished then?” Steve manages to say, looking down at his own cup, still glad that there is a table covering his lap.

“Almost, I’m an intern in a few months if I pass the boards.” Bucky says, a smile playing on his lips, but there is something else in his tone, fear perhaps, uncertainty, Steve isn’t really sure, but he desperately wants to kiss him even more now, wants to make him smile, god this is not helping him focus....

“Why do you work then? I just mean, it’s pretty demanding surely you-” Steve asks, perhaps this is what Tony was talking about, perhaps this was the secret that Tony wouldn’t tell him, the secret that Steve had to wait for Bucky to reveal to him.

“Don’t really have a choice.” Bucky shrugs.

“A choice?” Steve is really curious now, this must be it, this has to be it, the secret that Tony wouldn’t tell him, this is it, right? He has to be the secret... maybe.

“Both parents are dead. I send Becca, my sister, money, she’s only young but she’s doing great, sh-” Bucky answers, staring down at the table now. He doesn’t really know why he is telling Steve all this, but for some reason he just can’t not tell him, he feels so at ease...

“Wait, Bucky and Becky?” Steve says, not managing to keep the grin off his face, Bucky sighs but he smiles back.

“She isn’t a Becky she’s a Becca so...” Bucky starts.

“Still.” Steve laughs, before draining the last of his coffee. Looking over at Bucky, he feels comfortable, like they have been sitting in this booth together for years, known each other for decades, but they’ve only just met.

“Shut it.” Bucky answers easily, smiling at Steve, almost forcing him to adore him even more.

“I haven’t said anything.” Steve smirks. He is silent for a moment, just looking at Bucky across the table, wondering why he makes him so happy, why it is so easy to talk to him, even though it is still so hard to even think let alone speak around him. He makes him relaxed, but at the same time he makes him tongue tied and nervous. Instead of telling him that, Steve simply opts for, “You’d be perfect in peds,” and keeps the rest in his head.

“Thanks, hopefully I get in, I mean Boston would be-” Bucky starts, as he drums the fingers of his right hand on the table, he looks slightly stressed by the concept of not getting in, but Steve cannot focus on that, not when he just said Boston...

“You’re leaving?” Steve blurts out, hardly able to control himself, there is so much else he wants to say, but luckily those are the only two words that manage to work their way out.

“Yeah probably I-” Bucky starts, a little surprised by Steve’s outburst, but continues, his eyes resting curiously on Steve’s expression which Steve is rapidly trying to construct a look of nonchalance on, but is failing miserably.

“But you can’t!” Steve almost yells, he tries not to, but he can’t not. This is the first actual conversation he has had with Bucky, this cannot be the last, he cannot leave, he... shit, Steve clamps his jaw shut, as he desperately thinks of what to say next. Bucky is looking at him with an odd expression on his face, and as he raises his left eyebrow Steve hurriedly adds, “I mean we have great hospitals here and won’t Natasha be pissed I mean long distance relationsh-”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky interrupts, and Steve practically signs in relief, he needed to be stopped, he couldn’t stop himself from talking, and he was going to say something more that he wouldn’t be able to take back, but the look of confusion of Bucky’s face, combined with the voice in Steve’s head, he knows he has already said far too much.

“Well people always say that long distance relationships can work, but it won’t, I mean one of you will ch-” Steve answers, his voice slightly shaking, his hands clasp each other as they rest on his lap, while he desperately tries to dig his way out of the hole he is put himself in.

“Nat and I don’t date.” Bucky interrupts, somewhat surprised by the assumption that they do, Steve bites down on his tongue, concealing a noise of excitement as he stares blankly across at Bucky, shocked, utterly and completely shocked.

“You don’t?” Steve manages to get out. If Bucky isn’t dating Natasha that means...

“God no-” Bucky starts with a small laugh, staring at Steve with an odd look on his face.

“Thank god.” Steve says, breathing a sigh of relief as a smile bursts onto his face. And then his brain kicks into action, the smile vanishes and he hurriedly adds, “I just mean now you won’t have to worry about leaving I me-”

Mercifully Bucky’s phone goes off, cutting Steve off, Bucky flips it open before Steve can even really register him pulling it out of his pocket. He mutters something into the phone that Steve cannot hear, and then he sighs and says, or more so, asks, “Jetzt?”

 “Oh shit, I’m sorry I really have to go, it was great talking to you but I have to run-” Bucky starts as he hangs up the phone with another sigh. Steve watches him stand up and shove his phone into his pocket along with his hand, and Steve wants to say something, to do something, hug him goodbye, perhaps...

“It was nice to talk to officially meet you Bucky.” Is all Steve says, and the smile Bucky gives him before he turns around makes Steve weak in the knees. As Bucky heads out of the cafe, he pauses at the counter and pays for both their drinks, Steve groans inwardly, he was meant to pay, perhaps next time he thinks wistfully... Watching Bucky walk out of the cafe, his eyes trained to his ass, Steve bites his bottom lip and again thanks the god his mother believed in that the table covers his lap.

**...**

“You got into another fig-” Sam starts as he notices the blood on Steve’s t-shirt when he walks into the apartment, he then notices the look on Steve’s face and quickly adds, “Wait what happened??” Steve had to head to work almost straight after his coffee date, and he can’t even really remember what happened there, no, he was far too busy repaying his entire time with Bucky, smiling at himself, wondering how this even happened. He pinched himself twice on his way to work, hoping that he wouldn’t wake up, that he didn’t dream it all, but when all he was left with was a sore arm, and fingernails biting into his skin, he grinned like an idiot. And that oversized grin was still on his face now, so obvious that even a distracted Sam picked up on immediately.

“Bucky.” Steve says, the word coming out like a breath, accompanied by an even wider smile as he walks towards the fridge, dropping his bag on the table as he went. He can see the surprised look on Sam’s face, but Steve is pouring himself a glass of orange juice before Sam can formulate a reply. “Doesn’t date Nat.” Steve adds grinning ridiculously as he puts the orange juice back in the fridge and takes a sip.

“Wait what? Tell me exactly what happened!” Sam demands, a smile trickling onto his face, he can’t help it, not really, not when Steve looks so euphoric. His coffee in hand, Sam leans against the bench, eyes watching Steve, trying to ascertain what exactly happened, he can’t help but smile somewhat ruefully at the news that Nat isn’t dating Bucky, sure could be dating someone else, and Sam really likes Maria, but that isn’t the point here, not really.

“A miracle.” Steve grins as he takes another sip of juice. If Sam didn’t know him so well, he could have sworn he was high, from that dazed look on his face, and the relaxation of his limbs, but no, Sam is old enough and wise enough to know exactly the cause for Steve’s overwhelming happiness. Bucky.

“God.” Sam sighs, rolling his eyes at Steve, who ignores him and continues to smile brightly completely lot in his own head, wondering why it had taken him this long to talk to Bucky, he was so perfect, god he already knew he was, but now, shit...

“I totally love him.” Steve breathes, as he collapses onto the couch, still grinning like a lunatic, but he doesn’t mind, god, he doesn’t care. This is ridiculous, he wants to tell himself, you barely know him… the secret that Tony mentioned isn’t even in his mind right now, well it is, hidden in a corner, completely ignored and forgotten… perhaps part of him assumes the dead parent thing is part of the secret, and maybe it is…

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Sam smiles. He has a lecture in less than 15 minutes, and he needs to leave soon, but the lecture he can wait for, this he needs to wait for. Progress in Steve’s love life is literally unheard of until now, the amount of times Steve has had to listen to Sam drone on and on about someone, most recently Maria, is insane, it is only fair that he returns the favour.

“He has a sister, named Becca, not Becky, and he wants to be a peds surgeon, and god he is perfect, like perfect perfect. Do you have any idea how hard it is to focus when he looks at you, or when his lips wrap around the edge of hjs cup or when…?”

“Bet that wasn’t the only thing that was hard.” Sam mutters, but the grin that splits over Steve’s face tells him he heard it.

“God yeah, especially when he walked away in those tigh…” Steve answers.

Sam groans at that, but he is still smiling when he cuts Steve off, “And on that note, I better head off.”

“Shit doesn’t you lecture start in,” Steve glances at the clock on the wall and sighs, “10 minutes. Stop listening to me babble and go.” Sam is his best friend, he really is, but sometimes he wants to give him a good shake, he was just smiling like a lunatic and rambling on about Bucky, well perhaps not out loud, not yet, but he was going to, Sam didn’t need to be late for class to catch this.

“You sure?” Sam asks, hovering by the couch. The look on Steve’s face tells him he will be fine, better than that, but Sam has never seen Steve so happy, and he wants to savour it, the grin on his face that could split his cheeks and the odd intonation when he speaks, Sam doesn’t want to miss any of it, he loves Bucky himself just because he makes his best friend so happy, which is insane, Steve doesn’t even know him, not really. But he makes Steve happier than anyone had been able to make Steve, and that alone makes his heart drop, if this is how happy he can make him, how sad could he make him given the chance, what will happen to Steve if…

“Yes, god I am on cloud nine or whatever right now.” Steve answers, oblivious to the thoughts rocketing through Sam’s mind now. Steve’s eyes are closed so he can’t catch Sam’s expression, but just in case, Sam hastily smiles and pushes all thoughts of a heartbroken and shattered Steve completely out of his mind.

“Plus I bet you want some time alone to relive your…” Sam starts, glad to be back in his former state of mind, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, it takes Steve a few seconds to figure out what Steve is on about…

“Just go!” Steve interrupts, shooing Sam towards the door. Still slumped on the couch with his glass in hand, he gives Sam a small glare which is offset but the smile that touches his lips.

“Make sure to clean u-” Sam teases, unable to help the smile spreading across his face as he pull his bag over his shoulder and takes a step towards the door.

“GO!” Steve yells over him, cutting him short. Sam is grinning as he pulls the door shut behind him and Steve cannot help but grin after him. His eyes shut as he leans back onto the couch, he sits in silence for a few second before he gives off a small shriek of happiness, a shriek he doesn’t even attempt to conceal, he just grins and wonders when he will be able to see Bucky again. He takes him a few minutes of reminiscing about his coffee date before he decides to heads to the privacy of his bedroom and follow Sam’s advice…

**…**

“Would you stop!” Sam groans the next morning. The coffee isn’t ready, and as he leans against the bench, his body crumpled over and his hand cupping his face, he looks absolutely exhausted.

“Stop what?” Steve says, his voice bright and cheery. While Same is avoiding looking out the window and into the light, Steve is practically bouncing on the balls on his feet as he hurries around the apartment, retrieving his phone and various miscellaneous items  he needs for the day.

“Smiling.” Sam moans, as he slumps further against the counter, his head touching the cool surface and Steve bounces into the kitchen to make them both a cup of coffee. He can’t being fucking ecstatic this morning, after yesterday with Bucky, actually talking to him, having an actual conversation with him less than 24 hours ago, he can’t not smile.

“I can’t help it.” Is all he says, the words come out twisted by the grin on his face, they come out even cheerier than anything else Steve has said all morning, something that Sam was willing to bet was impossible only moments ago.

“I am hung over and you are grinning like a fucking circus clown, just stop.”  Sam groans. Steve flashes him another grin, which Sam misses before he pushes a cup of freshly made coffee into Sam’s hand.

Steve was barely able to focus the rest of yesterday, sure he thought about Bucky a lot usually, but last night as he lay awake with bed he could barely lay still as he grinned up at the ceiling, his hand resting on his heart, over his chest, as he felt his heartbeat.

“Stop!” Sam yells, pulling Steve out of his thoughts as he puts his sketchbook into his bag, and Sam takes another sip of his second cup of coffee, his eyes on Steve, who still has his back to him.

“I’m not doing anything! I’m not smiling, I am just sitting here in silence, being victimized by you, all because your date last night did not end at all as you had hoped it would, judging by the..” Steve answers, as he walks into his bedroom searching for a fresh pair of socks.

“Yes, thank you. And I can feel you smiling.” Sam cuts him off with a half concealed groan.

“But I’m not!” Steve yells back as he slips into his socks and walks back out into the living room and scans the room, wondering where he managed to put his left shoe.

“You are giving off too much positivity, god it is sickening, I can actually see the love hearts around your head.” Sam answers with another groan.

“Can’t I be happy?” Steve says as he ducks under the couch and pulls out his shoe before slipping his foot into it, and tying up the laces.

“Of course you can, just not this much at 6 o’clock in the fucking morning.” Sam replies with a small smile touching his lips as he takes another sip of his coffee, his body still slumped against the counter as he tries to wake his brain up. Steve may have to leave in the next few minutes, but Sam doesn’t have anything until 8, and he is struggling to find a good reason why he can’t just crawl back into bed and sleep until 7.30.

**…**

Even grocery shopping that day is a delight. He can see couples together and smile at them, wondering if he will look that infatuated with Bucky, when, no actually if, they ever date. God he feels pathetic at the very thought but that doesn’t last, he pushes that away and focuses on getting apples. He is back to smiling less than a minute later and almost every brunette looks like Bucky from behind, just for a moment. And as Steve wanders through the supermarket door, he swears he sees Bucky out of the corner of his eye.

He is in love with Bucky, perfect Bucky, who will never like him, but that isn’t what he is focussed on no, he is focussed on the fact that he isn’t dating Nat, and that he spent an entire 30 minutes talking to him, and even seemed put off when he was dragged away early. Lost in his head he wanders the aisles, getting what they need, or at least what Sam has been whinging about not having for the past two days, when he sees something out of the corner of his eye, again.

He knows it’s him.

Of course it is.

He thought he saw the back of his head when he was looking at oranges, but he wasn’t sure. But now that he is standing by the cereals, a box of something healthy that Sam instructed him to buy, he can see Bucky at the end of the aisle, wearing a dark grey hoodie and those black skinny jeans that he loves him wearing so much. Steve ponders what he will say to him when they serendipitously bump into each other and discus the pros and cons of sugar in cereal, or perhaps something more sophisticated, Steve wonders whether he will simply start talking of if they will hug hello or shake hands, he looks up again, unsure of what to say first to Bucky.. the air is sucked out of him, and Steve simply stares forward for a few seconds, stares at Bucky … but he isn’t alone. Beside him, too close to be an acquaintance is a woman, pretty even from afar, Steve groans, and before he knows it, he is moving as quickly as possible down the aisle away from them, the box of cereal is dumped at the top of his basket, and he forgets what else he needs to get as he just tries to reach the end of the aisle, without tripping over anything or anyone.

“Sorry.” Steve mutters as he almost knocks into a woman that looks familiar, but he isn’t sure, she gives him a small smile, and he continues. Reaching the end of the aisle he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and slumps against the stand at the end. Something crumples behind him and he takes a step back, for once wishing that he was small again, small enough to hide in plain sight, to be able to have a panic attack in the supermarket and lean against things for support without worrying that they will fall over and collapse.

Turning around, he peeks down the aisle at the two of them, laughing as they shop, so close to each other oblivious of the world around them.

Steve is going to be sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Jetzt' is german for 'now' – correct me if I am wrong :)  
> Totally unbeta-d so all errors are mine and mine alone..  
> Sorry about the confusion with the first chapter. Thanks to everyone who left kudos and also those who left me comments :D  
> If you want to say hi I'm on tumblr under the same name :)
> 
> I know it's sort of cheesy and all but I hope you like the direction this story is taking, lemme know what you think.


	3. Honey We're Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can do this all day.” Steve answers, smiling up at them, blood covering his teeth.
> 
> “This will teach you to-” The blond starts as he delivers a sharp kick to Steve’s abdomen. Despite himself, Steve groans in pain and clutches his stomach, wondering why for once he couldn’t just not.

He hates time. Time moves both fast and slow but never the one you want when you need it. Somehow he manages to get the rest of the groceries, somewhat hastily, and uses the counter at the far end of the store, his neck bent, wishing he was small again, small enough to be invisible, to be able to hide in plain sight. He just wants to get out of here and hopes to god that Bucky doesn’t see him, or try to talk to him or worse ignore him.

Barely 10 minutes later he is standing in the kitchen putting the groceries away, wondering why he had even thought that Bucky could be single. He knew Bucky wasn’t with Nat, but he could have sworn by the look on Bucky’s face, god, why did he think that Bucky was single, of course he wasn’t, he couldn’t be single. Slamming the orange juice into its spot in the door of the fridge, Steve lets a frustrated groan, and tries to ignore the wetness that stains his cheeks.

“Where has that annoying smile gone?” Sam asks, scratching his neck as he stares down at the books scattered in front of him in confusion. Steve groans again, and goes back to unpacking the groceries for a minute or so before Sam looks up from his book and watches Steve expectantly.

“I saw Bucky.” Steve sighs as he places the box of cereal in the cupboard before slamming the cupboard door shut. This day sucks, he decides. He hates the days that start off well, that are amazing and he is happy, because when he crashes it is far worse. If he starts off like that, then he doesn’t feel as though he has lost, that he has lost his chance of happiness, since the day never possessed it happiness, so he had nothing to lose.

“That’s good isn’t it?” Sam answers. He can sense the tone, he knows something is wrong, it’s obvious, but he needs for Steve to tell him, not to demand it, not when Steve is like this.

“Well he didn’t see me.” Steve mutters, as he looks up at Sam, whose eyes widen, somewhat mistaking what Steve was saying. “I wasn’t stalking him, I was just getting groceries.” He hurriedly adds, and Sam’s face relaxes and a teasing grin grows.

“I assume there is more to this-” Sam starts after a few seconds of silence, where Steve picks at the corner of his tshirt, wanting to say more, but not knowing how to say what he wants to say. He knows what he saw, but in the half hour he had been trying to find some reasonable explanation for the two of them that didn’t involve Bucky being at the supermarket with his girlfriend.

“He was with someone.” Steve manages to get out, his voice quiet as he looks over at Sam, whose teasing grin only grows.

“And you immediately assumed it was his one true love.” Sam smiles, and Steve feels as though Sam is lacking a certain element of empathy.

“Well yeah.”

“Couldn’t possibly be that sister he mentioned to you?” Sam is grinning now, and Steve shakes his head once before he internally kicks himself. Leaning against the kitchen bench, he stares blankly at a spot on the wall and considers the possibility.

“Well, maybe…” Steve starts, his lip quivers for a moment before he bits down on it as he thinks.

“God you are so-” Sam’s grin is growing as he stands up, knowing he will be late for his shift if he doesn’t get up and go to work.

“Fuck off.” Steve cuts him off, somehow knowing where this particular brand of conversation is going. Pushing himself off the bench he half slams his bedroom door shut, while he tries to ignore the sound of Sam’s laughter as it echoes around the apartment.

**…**

Time passes, just as it usually does, slow and fast all at once. No sign of Bucky, no small smiles exchanged, no butterflies in Steve’s stomach as he watches him from a distance, he doesn’t see him. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about him, constantly. Wonder if that woman, that gorgeous brunette was his sister, or just a friend, or the possibility that makes his stomach churn, his girlfriend. He feels pathetic, pathetic for constantly glancing into the mall as he works, scanning for Bucky, needing just a second, just a glimpse. Part of him even considers walking past where he works, he is working today, Steve knows that, but instead he stays put and when he shift is over he walks home, alone and lonely, wondering how he could feel so amazing only 4 days ago when he sat across a table from Bucky, his hand wrapped around a coffee cup and a smile on his face, and now four days later, he is so far from that moment, the happiness is gone and only the memory remains. So lost in his head he walks for twenty minutes utterly oblivious to his surroundings, and doesn’t home, doesn’t head to the campus, he just wanders, wanders aimlessly for another half hour before he starts to head home, absorbed in his thoughts, and wondering if Bucky ever thinks about him in the way he does him.

**…**

Steve doesn’t have a shift the next day, he doesn’t need to go to work, but part of him still wants to, when he forces himself up with his alarm at 5am, he goes for a run, his feet pulling him towards Shield, but he fights it, and runs his usual route. Bucky couldn’t possibly be at work right now, it’s too early for the mall to be open, well at least the clothing stores in there, but that doesn’t mean that Steve can stop thinking about. His shoes slap against the pavement, and his legs burn, but he keeps running, he keeps pushing himself to run fast, to run harder, he is trying to distract his brain, but it doesn’t help. All he can imagine is Bucky running along beside him, and when he closes his eyes he sees Bucky’s smiling face, the way he looked when Bucky sat across the table from him, close enough for him to just reach out and touch him, and as Steve forces his eyes opens he runs faster, and veers towards home. He won’t see Bucky today, he knows that.

He has almost a full day on campus, and even though Bucky knows what west campus looked like when Steve sketched it in his book, he knew he wouldn’t bump into him, but the hope that he may, that he could, kept Steve on edge for the next few hours. And instead of distracting him as the thought of Bucky usually did, it made him work faster, work harder, and oblivious to the lecturers bad mood, Steve found himself smiling all day.

Well almost all day.

As he slings his bag over his shoulder, and heads to the exit ready to walk home, he still has a small smile touching his lips, as he thinks of Bucky…

**…**

This wasn’t how he intended his walk home to go. It wasn’t his fault, not really, they were asking for it. He was handling them fine, just fine, before a fourth one came out of nowhere about 20 seconds ago. Looking up from the concrete that he was just slammed into, Steve begins to consider that perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Sure he was bigger than he used to be, sure he could have taken two of them, but this was not working. He just hoped they would be content with beating the shit out of him, perhaps rendering him unconscious, they would be done. Hopefully they didn’t mean to kill him, but judging by the look in the blonds eyes, at least one of them was pretty keen to do some serious damage.

“I can do this all day.” Steve answers, smiling up at them, blood covering his teeth.

“This will teach you to-” The blond starts as he delivers a sharp kick to Steve’s abdomen. Despite himself, Steve groans in pain and clutches his stomach, wondering why for once he couldn’t just not.

“HEY!” Someone calls out, as footsteps thunder towards where Steve is in a ball on the ground, his lip sliced open and blood pouring out of him. His stomach throbs, he thinks perhaps a rib may be broken, or at least bruised. The running is coming from behind him, he can’t see who the voice came from, lifting his head up meekly, he sees the looks on their faces, evidently whoever was coming not a friend of theirs.

“Oh this little-” Another voice starts, the same voice that was yelling at the girl Steve had been stepping in to save about 2 minutes ago. The voice stops short as Steve hears a crack, the sound of fist hitting bone and the bone snapping. Steve hears a whimper then a cry. Still clutching his stomach, Steve tilts his head to get a better look, but all he can see is the feet of his assailants, and fresh blood dripping to the ground. Turning around slowly to get a better look, Steve recognises the shoes... wait, no it can’t be him can it?

A body drops in front of him disrupting his train of thought. The man is whimpering and clutching his arm. Intrigued Steve looks up and can’t help but gape. In front of him, is Bucky, except it doesn’t really seem like Bucky. The sweet guy from the coffee shop who stares out the window, has the cutest smile and shared a chocolate cake with a three year old is gone. In his place, is a man with an almost bored expression on his face as he blocks the feeble punches of two men at once. Steve watches, almost memorised, Bucky doesn’t miss, he doesn’t hit often but when he does he hits hard, and Steve can either hear the force of it or hear whoever Bucky hit cry out in anguish.

One of the men holds his arms in a sort of retreat and Bucky gives him a small nod, he doesn’t need to say anything. A flash of silver, and Steve knows it’s a knife, the man standing beside the one who is ready to surrender, has a knife in one hand and a look of cocky certainty on his face. Steve’s mouth opens, needing to warn Bucky but the blade moves too fast, and before the knife is anywhere near Bucky, Steve knows he won’t get a clean shot, he knows and so does the man beside his friend, staring at him in shock.

“Dude!” The man on the ground in front of Steve yells when he sees his friend raise the blade. The man standing beside him moves to stop him from stabbing Bucky. It seems the three of them can’t see the logic in their friends thinking and neither can Steve.

Bucky lazily catches the hand moving towards him with his palm, and as he looks the man dead in the eyes, he flicks it backwards. As it cracks and the man bites down on his lip to stop himself from crying out, there is no doubt that it’s broken, the knife drops to the floor with a dull clang and Bucky kicks it away. Dropping the fist as easily as he caught it, Bucky gives them a silent nod. Steve can see fear in the blonds eye as he picks the man in front of Steve off the ground. The man with the broken wrist, stands still, dumbfounded, wondering how Bucky, a man not hugely smaller, but still smaller than himself took on all four of them.

“You touch him again and I’ll kill you.” Bucky says, his voice even and clear, and there is no doubt in Steve’s mind that he will fulfil that promise. The four nod before they turn from Bucky and Steve, their shoes slapping against the concrete as they move as quickly as their bodies will allow. “Something makes me think you like getting punched.” Bucky says, as he sticks his hand out and pulls Steve up off the ground. Steve didn’t really need his hand, or so he tells himself, but he takes it anyway and gives him a look before he sighs.

“Those little shits were-” Steve starts.

“There were four of them and they were by no means little!” Bucky exclaims. The four of them are running down the alleyway towards the street, getting as far away from them as fast as they possibly can. Well running is perhaps not the best way to describe it, Steve thinks as his gaze trails them for a moment, they are limping not running, and that makes him smile.

“Well those four assholes were-” Steve starts again, his face hot and his tone harsher than usual.

“There was only one of you!” Bucky interrupts, in an attempt to make Steve see reason. Steve may be tall and broad and strong, and he could easily have fought two of them, perhaps a weaker third but not four at once. The four of them against him was not going to end well for Steve.

“That’s not true, there are two of us.” Steve smirks, as he straightens his shirt and looks around them before bending down and picking his phone off the ground, the screen is cracked but not badly. What worries him is his sketch book.

“You had no way of knowing I would show up.” Bucky answers, trying not to yell as he scans the area looking for Steve’s sketch book as well. Bending down and picking it up Bucky hands it to Steve, his eyes full of concern as Steve sighs in reply.

“Why did you show up?” Steve asks, he had been on his way home from class, he still was really, how on earth did Bucky manage to show up at exactly the right time, in just the right place, ready to fight.

“You need stitches.” Bucky says, blatantly ignoring Steve’s question as he inspects Steve’s forehead.

“No I’m fine.” Steve says bluntly. It’s just a little gash, probably, he has a first aid kit at home, Sam won’t be pleased, but he will clean him up regardless of his feelings. Bucky gives him a look but doesn’t say anything instead he grabs his bag off the pavement, pours water from his bottle onto a few tissues in his bag and places one hand on Steve’s shoulder, the other pressing the wet tissues against Steve’s head to clean the wound. Steve feels his heart pounding in his chest and tries to regulate his breathing, as he feels Bucky’s breath on his face and can see his lips puckered in concentration, close enough to kiss...

“You look like shit.” Bucky says, breaking through Steve’s thoughts. Bucky eyes are taking everything in, scrutinising Steve, looking for obvious wounds. He just wished he’d found him sooner, the way Steve is holding himself, the blood that is spread across his skin, and his clothes, if only he had found them sooner.

“I look better than you.” Steve replies as Bucky removes the now blood soak wad of tissues from Steve’s forehead.

“Not possible.” Bucky instantly replies as he drops the tissues into the bin beside them before slinging his bag over his shoulder and turning back to Steve. “Steve-” Bucky adds, looking at Steve, concern splayed across his face.

“What?” Steve sighs. He knows that look, he hates the look, but more than anything, he hates what follows.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.” And there is it, but it still makes Steve smile, no one has really cared enough about him to demand he goes to the hospital in a while, no one except Sam.

“But-” Steve starts, he doesn’t want to go to the hospital. Despite getting beaten up on a weekly basis he hasn’t been to the hospital in years now, he hates the place. Well he doesn’t hate it, he simply avoids it at almost all costs.

“I know you helped that girl out, and that was the right thing to do but you should have-” Bucky interrupts, causing Steve to sigh; this is the same spiel that everyone else has already given him, on multiple occasions, sure this is only one of a few conversations he has actually had with Bucky, but he had thought he would side with him on this.

“What waited until it was too late?” Steve snaps back. His hand pressed against his forehead, keeping pressure and his tries not to glare at Bucky. “You would have done the same fucking thing.” Steve argues and all Bucky can do is sigh. He would have done the same thing as Steve, and he would be the one with a gash in his forehead. Checking they didn’t leave anything on the ground, Bucky turns back to Steve and nudges him forward. His hand pressed against his temple as he glances over at Bucky, the two of them walk in silence before Steve notices something.

“What?” Bucky asks after almost a minute of Steve staring intently at him. Steve’s eyes aren’t on Bucky’s face though, they are on his jeans which are stained, and there is a split in the side.

“You’re fucking bleeding, why didn’t you say anything!” Steve answers, his tone accusing and he isn’t quite sure why. You worry about me but yourself, Steve thinks, trying not to focus on that, not while he is bleeding and in such close proximity to Bucky, close enough for him to hear his heart pounding.

“It’s fine.” Bucky says dismissively, not wanting Steve to push the issue further.

“That’s not fine it’s deep.” Steve replies, his eyes still on Bucky’s leg, as though he thinks if he stares hard enough he can see through the fabric or even stitch the skin back together with sheer will power. He has done the, ‘I’m fine’ speech, but he has never said it with such commitment as Bucky, despite the cut, he seems unaffected.

“Steve it-” Bucky starts, trying to stop Steve, trying to change the subject, trying to stop Steve from asking questions, from getting curious...

“Why are you fussing over me when you have a de-”Steve interrupts, before he notices blood seeping through the right sleeve of Bucky’s grey shirt and without thinking, he pulls up his sleeve and doesn’t have time to think or even keep his face expressionless when he simply mutters, “Bucky?” Staring up at Bucky, his eyes wide he notices something in Bucky’s presence change, his jaw hardens and he looks away from Steve. “What is-” Steve starts.

“Steve just back off.” Bucky says firmly, cutting over Steve as he yanks the sleeve down. His feet are still moving and he is still pointedly looking away from Steve who is keeping up with his increasing pace, his mind full of his questions and his expression anxious for the answers he isn’t sure he wants to hear.

“Who-” Steve thinks out loud. He simply can’t help himself, and he moves his hand forward, towards Bucky’s other wrist, his left arm to pull up his other sleeve, but as his fingers move hook under the stitching, Bucky’s hand clamps over his and his blue eyes are like ice as he looks at Steve.

“Steve just drop it.” Bucky utters. Steve lets his hand drop to his side and he stands still for a few second, his eyes meeting Bucky’s before Steve lets his gaze drop, he didn’t touch Bucky’s arm, but he did touch something, something cold, and slightly… Steve shakes his head. As Bucky starts walking again, Steve keeps pace, silently watching Bucky, wondering, wanting to know, and as his gaze lowers to Bucky’s leg which he seems to be walking unhindered by, well almost. Bucky’s left hand is still tucked into his pocket, and Steve can’t help but stare.

“You’ve had worse haven’t you?” Steve says, again speaking before he can stop himself. With all the questions bubbling away in his brain it was inevitable that one would surface and manage to slide off his tongue. He stares at Bucky’s hands, and for the first time notices that he hasn’t actually ever seen his left hand, and there is something different about his left arm, something, well... just something. “Why can you fight like tha-” He starts.

“Please Steve.” Bucky whispers. He doesn’t even look at him, but Steve can sense the desperation in his tone.

“Fine.” Steve breathes in reply. Clamping his jaw shut he walks silently beside Bucky, glad that they are only about a ten minute walk from the hospital. Bucky doesn’t say anything and Steve follows his lead. He keeps his hand pressed against his forehead and his eyes strays to Bucky’s arms every few seconds, both sleeves are down, and Steve cannot help to imagine what secrets those sleeves are hiding.

About two minutes away from the hospital, Steve realises that he has never seen Bucky in anything without sleeves. Every time that he has seen him, every single time, he has worn a jumper of some sort of a long sleeved top. He wants to ask, he needs to ask, but he knows he can’t, he shouldn’t. So instead of sounding his thoughts aloud, he holds pressure to the gash on his forehead and bites down on his tongue.  He makes it all the way to the front doors of the hospital before he can’t hold on any longer.

“Who did that to you?” Steve asks. Keeping his mouth shut was never one of the things he was good at, when it came to certain things his self-control was limited, which is why he ends up getting beaten up so often.  “What’s with your lef-”

“Stev-” Bucky starts, cutting him off. He doesn’t even look at Steve, he doesn’t want to glare at him, and if he looks at him now he will. He just wants Steve to drop it.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Steve asks. The last five minutes he had been replaying the fight in his head, and he still couldn’t work out how Bucky had managed to cause that much damage that quickly, with only a few wounds on himself to show for it.

“St-” Bucky starts again. They are frozen in front of the hospital doors, Bucky looking at the ground and Steve staring at Bucky, trying to gauge something from his expression, desperately trying to find a clue, anything.

“Your left hand...those scars on your-” Steve starts, not quite sure why he can’t just shut up, he needs to shut up he knows that the needs to stop talking, but he wants to know, he sort of needs to know.

“I SAID DROP IT!” Bucky yells, the couple walking past them stop, give them a look and then hurry inside.

“I’m sorry.” Steve says softly. Biting down on his lip he watches Bucky, wishing he could shut up, wishing that he hadn’t said anything, wishing more than anything that he could know the answers to his questions, wishing that he didn’t even have these questions. Wishing that Bucky didn’t have to wear long sleeved shirts and that he didn’t need to fight like he did, that he wasn’t a fucked up as he was.

“Let’s just go in okay.” Bucky says, his jaw still clenched, he isn’t looking at Steve, but down at the ground, and Steve uses this opportunity to glance at his hands again, on his left hand, that’s no longer hidden inside his pocket, it almost looks like there’s a glove, or something covering it, but Steve isn’t sure... all he can do is think of what Tony had said all those days ago, ‘Everyone has secrets that only they are allowed to tell.’

Steve doesn’t say anything for the next few minutes, and as they sit side by side in silence, he spots a familiar face, and for the first time since he left the alleyway his thoughts are not solely focussed on Bucky.

“Hey Sharon.” Steve says, a small smile growing on his face as she walks towards him, a few charts stacked in her hands and an agitated expression on her features that fade when she hears Steve’s voice and looks over at him.

“What did you do this time?” Sharon sighs in reply, a smile on her face that freezes for a single second before it grows as she spots Bucky beside Steve.

“He was going to hurt her, I just-” Steve answers, gaining another sigh from Sharon. She has lost count of the amount of stitches she has given Steve, the amount of times she has had to patch him up, and send him home, hoping that there isn’t a next time, hoping that next time he gets wheeled in as an organ donor.

“Couldn’t help yourself.” Bucky finishes with a sigh. His eyes are scanning the room, and he doesn’t notice the way Sharon’s eyes are trailing up his body, or how she is still grinning wickedly at him, Steve can’t help but notice, and he swallows what he wants to say.

“James! Good to see you again.” A man in a white coat and blue scrubs says brightly, nodding at Bucky who stands up, gives Steve a look, almost asking him if he will be okay alone for a few minutes while Bucky no doubt gets xrayed. Steve gives him a small smile and watches Bucky turn away from him.

“Doctor Banner.” Bucky smiles, once again looking the man from the coffee shop, looking like the kind, perfect person that Steve adores from afar. He obviously knows the doctor well Steve decides as the doctor laughs at something Bucky says before the two of them disappear around the corner.

“Who’s that?” Sharon asks as she nods to him to follow her into the ER, like Steve her eyes linger on the spot where Bucky disappeared for another moment before she looks at Steve and smiles.

“Bucky.” Steve answers, the word slips out before he can stop it, and as he sounds out the word, he feels almost protective of it, not wanting Sharon to… he shakes his head as he follows her, god, Bucky isn’t he, he shouldn’t be…

“God he’s hot. He yours?” Sharon asks as she hands another nurse the charts in her hands, and tells her to check on the man in bed 14. She points to an empty bed and Steve reluctantly sits on the corner of it, his mind still wrapped around her last comment, ‘he yours’, the very thought that he could be, prevents Steve for doing anything but imagine…

“No.” He manages to get out when Sharon appears in front of him again.

“You want him to be?” She asks, her hands soft against Steve’s forehead as she dabs at the wound, a resident hovers behind her, wanting to get to practice the stitches but Sharon shakes her head and proceeds.

“No.” Steve says shaking his head only slightly, although inside he is screaming yes and nodding his head uncontrollably.

“Then you don’t mind if I get his number.” Sharon says, a small smile on her lips as she continues to clean Steve up. She is past the point of lecturing him, she gets why he does it, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t infuriate her all the same. Sure he isn’t small and fragile, but Sharon still worries that one day his opposition will have knife (again), or worse a gun, and no matter how strong and fast Steve is, he won’t be getting off with a few stitches.

“Okay maybe I mind a little.” Steve answers, his teeth biting down on his bottom lips as Sharon dabs the gash again. He is used to it by now, he is, but that doesn’t mean it stops stinging, that it no longer hurts. He knows that he is still bleeding, and that this is going to hurt a little more than usual, but still, he wishes that Bucky didn’t drag him to the hospital, he could handle this himself.

“Did he save your ass from getting kicked, well getting a worse beating?” Sharon asks. Steve doesn’t answer, but Sharon can tell from the way his expression changes for a moment and a small smile splits his lips before he swears under his breath and bites down on his lip again.

“Then he is definitely a keeper.” Sharon answers, smiling at Steve as she turns away from Steve to grab a clean swab.

“He’s probably not even-”

“Do you want me to check?” Sharon cuts across him, a small smile still touching her lips as she dabs gently at Steve’s forehead again.

“No!” Steve exclaims. A few people turn to look at them, and he smiles apologetically before he adds in a much lower tone, “I just mean-”

“I know, now hold still this is numbed but it’s still stiches Steve.” Sharon gives Steve a look, and he nods, before closing his eyes and clutching at the corner of the bed. He is used to stitches, and as his breath hitches in anticipation of the first stitch, he tries to clear his mind and think of Bucky…

**…**

An hour passes, then another. Sharon is long gone, working on another floor, and Steve is waiting in the ER, annoyed that he is still taking up a bed, knowing that someone in the waiting room needs it more than him. He’s had scans, he has to wait, he knows the drill, but he can’t relax not really, even though he has been resting against the back of the bed, with his sketchbook sitting on his lap and a pencil in his hand, as he sketches, not his surroundings, Bucky, Bucky with no left arm, only a box there, a blank space with a question mark sketched lightly inside of it, as his mind skirts around the issue at hand.

Another twenty minutes passes, and his hand itches, he has three pages covered in fresh sketches but he has stopped, he can’t focus, he hasn’t seen Bucky in hours, and this is like usual, when he wonders what Bucky is up to, no this is different. Because they are in a hospital, and Bucky was bleeding and he hasn’t seen him in two hours.

He contemplates asking a nurse, or a resident that rushes by, but they all look so busy so he just sits and waits. He flicks off another text to Sam, _still no sign of him,_ before he scans the ER, and his fingers absentmindedly flip the page on his sketchbook, and he begins sketching, not Bucky, not this time, he needs to distract himself for Bucky, from worrying about his fate, so instead he draws those around him, creating little stories in his head as he does, and for the next half hour he is content.  But when he finishes, there is still no sign of Bucky and as he waits for another ten minutes, switching his time behind eyeing one exit and eying the other exit, he fiddles with the pencil in his hand as he nervously bites down on the inside of his cheek.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes, more.

He waits.

Albeit not patiently, but he waits.

Sam texts him and he texts back, but somewhat distractedly, as he waits, waits for Bucky to return.

Then out of the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of silver, and he turns, and when he does, he notices Bucky’s left hand has just slipped into his pocket, and his right hand is on the doctors arm, as the two of them continue to talk. The doctor nods towards Steve, and Steve looks back down at his sketchbook, hurriedly sketching something on his page, in a hope to look absorbed in his sketchbook, but he can feel both of their eyes on him. A few minutes later he looks back over at them, and the doctors arms are wrapped around Bucky in a hug, Bucky gives a one armed hug in return, his left hand still stashed in his pocket. And then he pulls back, and turns towards Steve, a smile still on his face, and as his eyes meet Steve’s, Steve knows he can’t look away and fake concentration on his sketch, so instead he holds his gaze as Bucky approaches.

“What did he say?” Steve asks before Bucky reaches his bed. He closes his sketchbook and stuffs it into his bag as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and looks up at Bucky expectantly, Bucky has stopped in front of his bed, and his expression is suddenly guarded.  “Come on Bucky what did he say?”

Bucky stands in front of him frozen for a second, before he absentmindedly bites down on his bottom lip and asks, “Who do you live with?”

“Sam.” Steve answers, unsure why Bucky is asking.

“When will he be home?”

“He’s got a late lecture, he won’t be home till about 11.” Steve replies before he can stop himself. He watches Bucky, and can practically hear his mind whirring as he thinks. Trying not to be distracted by the way Bucky’s teeth are playing with his bottom lip, he forces himself to look at Bucky’s eyes.

“You’re coming back to mine then.” Bucky says after another few seconds of silence.

“He told you I need to be monitored didn’t he?” Steve asks, barely able to function let alone think at the very thought of going to Bucky’s, but the implication that he needed to be babysat, that he needed to be looked after and cared for, overrode his need to blush.

“We both do, and Nat’s out tonight, so we can kick back and watch the game.” Bucky says ignoring Steve’s tone.

Steve’s anger softens quickly to confusion and he thinks for second, trying to figure out what Bucky means before the words slip of out his mouth, “The game?”

“Oh thank god you don’t watch it either.” Bucky smiles, and not just smiles, he smiles down at Steve, and Steve can practically feel his heart trying to rip its way through his rib cage at the very sight of that smile on Bucky’s face, that smile meant for him.

“The football?” Steve ventures, and Bucky nods a little, his eyes still on Steve, prompting him to continue, so Steve does, “I’ve never been a fan, kinda hard to like a sport when all the douchebags who play it at school enjoy beating the shit out of you once a week.”

“Don’t I know it.” Bucky mutters, his voice small as he shakes his head just a little. Steve looks up at him curiously, not quite believing what he said, perhaps he heard him wrong he must have, he opens his mouth to ask, but Bucky adds, “I’m sure we can find something to watch.”

“Yeah.” Steve says, not trusting himself to say anything more. Just a few long and extremely boring hours ago, when he was getting his ribs bruised, he had not imagined that this was how his evening was heading. Not only was nothing broken, but he was now embarking on an evening of just Bucky and him, at Bucky’s flat, just the two of them.

He doesn’t know how the get there. He faintly remembers leaving the hospital, and wandering the streets. He remembers how his eyes are glued to Bucky’s left hand that is tucked away in his pocket as his walks. He remembers how Bucky said a few things, and he knows he replied, but by the time they reach Bucky’s apartment building, clamber up the stairs for a few minutes since some ‘fucking asshole broke the lift’, Steve can barely think. Bucky is pulling keys out of his pocket with his right hand, and opening the door, and finishing a sentence that Steve cannot hear over the beating of his heart, he just smiles at Bucky and hopes to god it wasn’t a question.

“Honey we’re home.” Bucky shouts as he kicks the door shut behind him, Steve turns and sees the smile on Bucky’s face before he laughs. Nat doesn’t say anything in reply and Bucky turns to Steve before gesturing to the couch that sits in front of the tv. “Do you want something to drink? Hot? Cold?” Bucky asks as he walks towards the kitchen, pining for a cup of tea.

“Cold’s good.” Steve replies as he scans the apartment. It isn’t too cramped but it isn’t big by any means. The kitchen is squashed in the corner, but the placement of the bench makes it look slightly bigger, and also eradicates the need for a dining table. A couch sits in front of the tv, with a coffee table between them and a bookshelf stands beside the tv, full of books with worn covers and a few dvds, some with spines full of words in languages that Steve can’t recognise or understand.

“James!” Natasha yells from the bathroom, her voice sounding far more strained than normal, or at least so Steve assumes by the expression on Bucky’s face.

“Oh that never bodes well.” Bucky smirks as he shuts the fridge door, leaving the bottle of coke on the bench he heads towards the bathroom, Steve stands in front of the bookshelf wondering whether he should sit or stand or follow, before Bucky opens the bathroom door, letting it swing almost shut behind him.

Steve isn’t altogether sure what he should do, so he simply stands there, looking around the apartment as he attempts not to eavesdrop on their conversation until he hears “шампунь” and he can’t help but smile, he didn’t know Bucky spoke Russian. A few seconds later Bucky heads out of the bathroom, and pulls door shut behind him.

“See something ya like?” Bucky asks, and Steve fights to keep a certain ‘you’ slipping between his lips, and instead focusses on breathing as he scans the spines for another few seconds in silence as he hears the clink of glasses against, well something, Steve isn’t sure but he doesn’t pay much attention as he recognises a few titles. The fridge is opened and closed without another word, and as Steve remembers he needs to reply, he pauses for another moment when he sees a door handle twist in the corner of his eye.

“This one?” Nat asks, as she pulls open her bedroom door, without a word Bucky heads over towards her and examines her dress silently. Unsure whether to stay where he stands or follow, Steve lingers a few steps behind Bucky.

“Or...” Bucky answers, his eyes fixed on Nat as he looks her up and down. Beside him Steve is growing increasingly uncomfortable, especially as Nat pulls the blood red dress over her head and is standing there in her matching blue lacy lingerie, and Bucky doesn’t bat an eye, he just continues to lean against the doorframe in such a relaxed fashion that is driving Steve a little insane.

“Your breasts look better in this one, but...” Bucky starts after a few seconds of examining Nat, in a way that makes Steve feel like he should leave the two of them alone, especially when Bucky raised his eyebrow a tiny bit and Nat spun around, making Steve jealous of how well they knew each other.

“My ass right?” Nat sighs, as she turns to examine her ass in the mirror.

“Nah your ass looks fantastic in both, it’s just its cold, and the other one looks better with your third date jacket.” Bucky answers. Steve remains still, not sure if he should say anything, but knows that neither of them want his opinion.

“You’re right.” Nat says and Bucky grins. Steve looks down as Nat pulls the dress over her head before putting the first one back on before slipping into her heels. Looking up, Steve sees Nat raises her arms up slightly as she spins around once, and Bucky grins at her, before turning from the door and heading back into the lounge.

Steve clears his throat, and tries to find words, anything really to say, but he still cannot speak. His eyes are on Bucky, but he is desperately trying not to stare at him. He watches curiously as Bucky stops mid step before he turns around to face Steve.

“Shit.” Bucky mutters to himself before he walks straight past Steve, whose eyes follow him as he disappears from view. Steve stands awkwardly, contemplating to hover in front of the bookshelf again, when Bucky comes back into view a towel in hand. “Here.” Bucky says, as he offers the towel to Steve.

Steve stares at him in confusion for a moment and Bucky scraps his teeth over his bottom lip for a second as he thinks, and it takes everything Steve has to not lean forward and kiss him from where he stands.

“Your clothes are covered in blood.” Bucky starts, he looks nervous, which doesn’t make any sense to Steve, and Steve feels his eyes lingering on Bucky’s lips as he talks, and as Bucky’s tongue wets his lips as he pauses, Steve can’t stop staring. Bucky doesn’t seem to notice as he continues, “You need a change of clothes and a shower, y-”

“What will- I’ll wear your-” Steve starts and then immediately answers himself. For some miraculous reason he manages to keep breathing, he knows this isn’t romantic at all, but the idea of wearing Bucky’s clothes, does not make breathing, or forming sentences easy.

“If you don-” Bucky begins hurriedly, and the look on his face, is killing Steve.

“No!” Steve exclaims, a little louder than he meant to, and quickly adds in a more relaxed tone, “I mean no, that’s totally fine.” Bucky gives him an odd look before he places the towel in Steve’s hands and somewhat reluctantly, no couldn’t be, takes a step back.

“Just don’t get your bandage wet-” Bucky starts as he turns away from Steve, and Steve stands still for a second, before he follows.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Sharon would kill me.”

“Sharon?” Bucky asks, his back to Steve as his fingers wrap around a door handle, before he turns to face Steve and asks, “The nurse?” Steve nods, and opens his mouth to speak, but Bucky cuts him off with another question, “Do you guys..”

“Date?” Steve finishes for him. Bucky gives a small nod, and Steve can barely contain the shocked expression, as he blurts out, “god no” before he laughs.

“Why is that so funny?” Bucky asks, his eyebrow raised as he observes Steve with a curious expression, a small smile on his face as Steve continues to ask. Steve is too busy laughing to question the fact that the two of them are standing in front of a closed door, and have been for several seconds now.

“She was checking you out.” Steve blurts out before he can stop himself, part of him immediately regrets it, he isn’t really sure why, except for the thought that perhaps Bucky liked her, that maybe…

“What?” The shock on Bucky’s expression makes Steve smile a little.

“Yeah, wanted your number.” Steve answers, his tone quieter now, now that he realises how close he is to Bucky now, that he is standing right in front of him, presumably in front of his bedroom door. Steve is no longer smiling, simply standing fighting the urge to kiss him.

“Hmm…” Is all Bucky says, before he turns and pushes open the door before adding, “so uh, help yourself to clothes” as he gestures to the tiny cupboard in the corner. It takes a lot for Steve to move his body past the doorway, and even more to not stare longingly at his bed, or to scan the walls, trying to soak in as much as he can, instead he heads to the wardrobe and opens the door.

“So you do own fucking tshirts!”Steve grins as he scans the contents of Bucky’s wardrobe. He can feel his heart beating against his chest, the whole room smells like Bucky, whatever that is, it wraps around him, and holy shit, Steve thinks, he is Bucky’s actual fucking room.

“Uh yeah.” Bucky replies behind him, and Steve’s heart pounds harder as he realises how close Bucky is to him.

“I’ve just never seen you in one before.” Steve says as he pulls a navy blue shirt off a hanger, and turns to face Bucky who is standing behind him, his back to him and Steve takes a few seconds to look around the room. Posters cover the walls, most that he recognises, some that he doesn’t. The room is tidy, the bed is made, the bed that takes up more space than it should in such a small room, the double bed that Steve is not trying to imagine himself lying on, his arm curled around Bucky, or Bucky’s arm curled around him…

“Sorry I-” Bucky starts, interrupting Steve’s train of thought as he hands him a pair of track pants and… Steve’s breath catches, and he knows it shouldn’t, but what the hell it does anyway.

“It’s fine. More than fine, thanks.”  Steve smiles as he takes the track pants, Bucky’s track pants, and a grey pair of Bucky’s briefs, that Steve’s eyes are not lingering on, are not staring at. Except they are, and he has to consciously move his gaze and follow Bucky out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

“On, off, hot, cold, it’s a shower, I take it you’ve been in one before, if ya need a hand give me a shout.” Bucky says, pointing to the shower, and gesturing to the towel rack for Steve to put the towel and clothes on, before he leaves and shuts the door behind him. Steve grins, and tries not to think about how much he would like Bucky to give him a hand as he turns on the shower, and leans against the bench, his hands gripping the edges of the sink as he stares at his reflection, trying to calm himself.

A few minutes later, Steve is drying himself off as rapidly as he can. He is Bucky’s apartment, and in Bucky’s bathroom. He may or may not have opened the shampoo bottles, and grinned like an idiot when he realised that Bucky smelt like that shampoo, not completely but enough for Steve to make a mental note to go out and buy a bottle. The shirt is a little of the tight side, but he smells like Bucky, and as he pulls on the briefs and the track pants, he wills himself not to think of Bucky in them, or out of them…

“That was quick.” Bucky comments as the bathroom door opens. He is standing in the kitchen, with a fresh change of clothes for himself resting on the bench, and a cup of tea in one hand. His eyes widen slightly at Steve, Steve wearing his clothes, and Steve gives him a small smile, and Bucky smiles back.

“Well you boys have fun.” Nat says, saving either of them from having to come up with something to say, as she slips into her jacket and gives them a smile before pulling open the door.

“Text if you need us to clear out of here before you get back.” Bucky smirks at Nat.

“Call me if you need anything.” Nat adds, ignoring Bucky’s comment as she looks over at Bucky who nods in reply before looking back at the Steve, Steve watches her go, and his eyes widen as his eyes catch a flash of silver before the door shuts behind her.

“Is that a- does she have a knife?” Steve says slowly.

“Yeah, her dress is too tight for her glock.” Bucky answers, as he picks up his change of clothes off the counter, leaving Steve standing still, his mouth open as he stares at Bucky, not sure if he is joking, but then again this is Natasha, odds on he isn’t kidding. “And she hates bringing a purse.” He adds.

“Oh.” Steve breathes unsure of what to say.

“I’ll only be a few minutes.” Bucky says after a few seconds.

“Take all the time you need, I’ll get myself acquainted with your tv.” Steve answers with a smile, surprising himself, at how normal how sounds. He kept his promise, he didn’t wet his bandage, but he did scrub the rest of the blood off his face with the flannel that Bucky left on the corner of the sink for him. His skin may feel clean, but with his eyes trailing Bucky, watching him as the bathroom door shuts behind him, he would rather not be… he would rather be on the other side of that door…

With Bucky in the shower, Steve can hear the water running, sure he can hear the sounds of the tv over the water running, but he cannot focus at all on the tv, he doesn’t even know what channel he’s on, what show he chose. He has a glass in his hand, and he absentmindedly drinks at as he stares at the screen blankly for another few seconds before he pulls out of his phone and his fingers dance across the screen before he can stop himself.

_I’m in his apartment._

Sam probably won’t reply, not immediately at least, not when Steve needs him to reply, but before he can stop himself, he hits send and starts writing a new message.

_On his couch._

He pauses, and waits for a second, wondering if Sam has seen them before he quickly types another.

_He is in the shower._

And then another.

_All soapy and wet_

He sends the last one without thinking and as his thumb hovers over the screen, it lights up, and vibrates in his hand.

 _Bet it’s hard to stay put on the couch._ Steve smiles and moves his finger to write a response when another text arrives.

_Bet that’s not the only thing that’s hard right now._

Steve laughs before he can stop himself, and grins down at his phone before he types a quick reply.

_Damn right._

The shower is no longer running, and Steve is still grinning down at his phone. And he types another reply.

_He’s out of the shower._

Looking up at the tv again, he switches the channel, as he awaits a reply. His screen dims and he can hear Bucky in the bathroom… his phone vibrates and the screen brightens.

_But is he out of closet?_

Steve grins, a laugh escapes his lips and he wonders for a brief second if Bucky can hear him before his phone lights up again.

_Can he think straight around you?_

Steve laughs again, and his fingers move to type another response…

“Steve?” It’s Bucky, he knows it is, but his voice, his voice sounds weird. He doesn’t sound at all like him, he sounds hesitant, scared almost, and that makes Steve worry, the small hitch in his tone makes Bucky sound vulnerable, and Bucky who easily defeated those men in the alleyway, Bucky who looked after Emily until her parents came, was not vulnerable.

“Yeah?” Steve answers, switching off the tv as he turns around to face the bathroom door.

“Promise not to freak out okay?” Is all Bucky says in reply, his voice isn’t his own, at least it doesn’t sound like him.

“I promise.” Steve says, his heart beating against his ribcage even faster than it did when he say Bucky in that alleyway this afternoon. Is that what Tony was talking about, is this his secret that only he can tell, is this about…

The bathroom door opens and Steve’s mind blanks.

His mind blanks for numerous reasons, and he isn’t really to blame. In front of him stands Bucky, his hair still wet from the shower, with water droplets still dripping down his skin, the top of Bucky’s briefs are peeking out from his track pants, and as much as Steve wants to stare at them as he bites the bottom of his lips and stares filthily up at Bucky through his lashes, there is something else immediately stealing his attention.

Bucky isn’t wearing a shirt.

Which is attention consuming enough, and that alone is enough to short circuit Steve’s brain, especially as he notices that his skin is still wet, and Steve wants to… no, that’s not what is stealing his attention…

The marred flesh at the top of Bucky’s left shoulder, the scars that are etched into his skin, are stealing Steve’s attention, but more than that, it isn’t just his shoulder, but attached to it is an arm, a metal arm, glistening, and as Steve’s gaze travels along his arm to his hand, the metal hand with perfect fingers, perfectly metal fingers, that Steve has somehow not noticed. But that isn’t what steals his attention not his full attention at least.

It isn’t the metal arm, or the perfectly constructed fingers, or the way he wants to lick the water droplets off Bucky’s skin, or let his fingertips trail across Bucky’s chest, guiding them over his muscles, over the contours, over the scars, the flecks of trauma splattered across the masterpiece that is Bucky, who is still a masterpiece, not despite the arm, no, it’s a part of him, and Steve doesn’t mind the arm, no, what he minds is the look on Bucky’s face. The expression that Bucky wears, splayed across his features is what steals his attention. God he never wanted to see that expression on Bucky’s face, looking so uncertain, so scared…

“It’s beautiful.” Steve manages to breathe out. He doesn’t realise that he has stood up, he doesn’t realise that he has walked towards Bucky, or that his hand is moving forward, and as it hovers above Bucky’s arm he asks, “Can I touch you?” and Bucky smiles and nods. Bucky smiles because Steve said ‘you’, he didn’t say ‘it’, he didn’t run towards the door, instead, he is reaching out and admiring his arm, Bucky’s arm, and is admiring with curiosity, not fear.

“What happened?” Steve asks, his voice soft as his eyes trace Bucky’s skin, tracing the skin that he has now been given permission to admire, and boy does he do just that. He can feel the small intake of Bucky’s breath as he runs his fingertips over Bucky’s shoulder, over where the metal and the skin meet. His fingertips brush skin for another few seconds before he pulls his hand back, knowing that if he doesn’t, he will do something he will probably regret.

“Maybe another time.” Bucky smiles lightly, and Steve’s heart still aches at the expression on Bucky’s face. He wants to kiss it off, but he can’t, he won’t, instead he tries his best to keep breathing at a steady pace.

“What I have to be a level 3 friend to unlock the tragic backstory?” Steve asks with a grin, somehow maintaining full control of his mind and his mouth; which were two things he didn’t think was possible in this close a proximity of Bucky.

“Something like that.” Bucky answers, a smile dancing in his eyes and curving up the ends of Bucky’s lips, which is not at all helping Steve’s resolve not to kiss him, luckily Bucky speaks before Steve can say something stupid, “Speaking of which, what do you want to play?”

“Something light?” Steve suggests, unable to tear his eyes away from Bucky’s shoulder, unable to look away from the mangled mess; that is perfect, his mother always told him it was imperfections that made us perfect, and god, Bucky was perfect.

“How about Mario kart?” Bucky says, taking a step away from Steve, and Steve’s feet move without his permission, follow him a step, but Bucky doesn’t notice, he has already turned away, turned into the bathroom, and is grabbing a shirt, Steve bites down on his tongue to stop a protest, but smiles when Bucky pulls on a shirt, his arm still revealed.

“Okay, but I’m warning you, I am fucking fantastic at it.” Steve answers, as he in turn, turns towards the tv, and falls onto the couch, and gets comfortable again. His phone lights up but he places it face down on the table, ignoring Sam’s message, for now at least.

“Uh huh.”

“You don’t believe me?” Steve asks, staring over at Bucky with a look of feigned insult displayed across his features. Bucky in turn grins and brings their glasses over to place on the coffee table.

“We’ll just see whose fucking fantastic at it, may or may not be you....” Bucky begins as he sits it up, Steve has to tear his eyes away from Bucky to stop himself from adoring his ass, except he doesn’t, he admires, and smiles as he does so.

“Really?” Steve says in reply, his eyes still fixed on Bucky.

“Uh huh” Bucky says again, he can feel Steve’s eyes on him and he smiles, a smile that Steve can see in the reflection in the tv, a smile that only makes Steve’s grow.

“Oh you’re on.” Steve smirks as Bucky hands him a controller. Bucky smirks back, and raises his eyebrow, and Steve’s smirk changes into a grin, which somehow manages to grow when Bucky drops next to him. Upon entering the apartment, Steve had failed to appreciate how small the two person couch was, and only now with the two of them squeezed together, their knees bumping and barely any space between them Steve is more grateful for a piece of furniture than he ever has been in his entire life. Steve’s smile only grows as he feels the cool metal of Bucky’s left arm against his skin, and as he feels Bucky’s arm pull away slightly, he chases it, pressing his arm against it, he doesn’t need to look at Bucky to know what his face looks like now, and Steve keeps his eyes fixed on the tv, trying not to grin too manically.

“Did you just blue shell me?” Steve asks about ten minutes later, his voice is slightly louder than he intended it, perhaps it’s the drugs Sharon made him take, perhaps it’s something else...

“There are no friends here.” Bucky answers with a grin, a grin that makes Steve’s heart stop for a just a second, a grin that tears Steve’s focus away from the screen, a grin that…

“Fuck.” Steve mutters as he manages to guide his car right into the water. Bucky only laughs, and Steve doesn’t mind that he’ll come last place, losing was worth that grin.

Four glasses of coke, two packets of chips and a packet of skittles later, Bucky selects rainbow road. The two of them are tied, and this is the last game, winner takes it all, the stakes are high…

“That’s right biiiatch.” Steve almost whoops as he passes Bucky. The two of them are leaning forward, on their edge of the couch, their sides pushed right up against each other, their knees knocking as they bounce them in anticipation…

“Did- did you just say biiatch?” Bucky asks, trying to still focus on the screen, on not falling off, as he looks over at Steve, who is just now realising what he actually said… the tips of his ears redden.

Bucky watches him as Steve stammers, “Uhmm..”

“That’s brilliant.” Bucky grins, his eyes back on the road now, as he pushes against Steve for a moment, nudging him. Not in attempt to sabotage him, Steve knows that, and that makes him smile.

“Shut up.” Steve replies, trying to swallow his smile and look insulted, but the smile curves his lips regardless. Part of him wants to text Sam, to tell him how amazing and perfect this day is, that this may or may not be his first date with Bucky, that this is best night of his life regardless of whether it’s a date or not, he doesn’t care, not with Bucky pressed so close against him.

“Biiaaatc- oh you little shit!” Bucky yells interrupting his teasing as Steve pushes him off the rainbow road.

“Take that biiaatch.” Steve grins, laughing as Bucky swears under his breath and gives Steve a soft glare.

“I’m going to fucking lose aren’t I.” Bucky sighs. Steve’s eyes are glued on his half of the screen, and he is smiling like crazy, his knee bouncing as he nudges Bucky and nods towards his position on the little map.

“Yes you are biaatch.” Steve answers as Bucky sighs, he is almost at the finish line, and he can almost taste the victory…

“If only I had a…” Bucky starts, Steve hesitates for a second, there is a change in Bucky’s tone, something almost sly, something almost…

“YOU BLUE SHELLED ME YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Steve yells, and beside him Bucky is laughing and then he is standing up and throwing his controller down on the couch and whooping at the top of his voice as he celebrates his victory.

“And James Buchanan Barnes crosses the finish line, it was close but in the final seconds of the race he managed to turn it around an-” Bucky is declaring triumphantly, as Steve groans and glares at the screen, wondering how Bucky managed to kick his ass.

“Your middle names Buchanan?” Steve interrupts, his lips curling into a smile, he loves knowing anything about Bucky, collecting little things about him and storing them in his head…

“Yup.” Bucky answers popping the ‘p’, and Steve gives him a small soft smile, relaxing the hardness growing in the corners of Bucky’s eyes, he smiles at Steve as he heads to the kitchen and grabs the bottle of coke out of the fridge as he asks, “Now how about a movie?”

“One more game!” Steve pleads, the controller sitting beside him as he looks over at Bucky.

“Fuck no, we said last game, and I won fair and square, I am the mother fucking champion of Mario Cart which means I get to pick the movie.” Bucky declares, grinning as he puts the kettle on and Steve smiles at that.

“Fine.” Steve sighs, his sigh offset by the smile on his face and the light in his eyes, he can’t not smile when he looks at Bucky, so relaxed, so… perfect. The dark grey shirt he is wearing, is slightly tighter than anything Steve’s seen him in before, but maybe that isn’t it, perhaps it isn’t tighter, perhaps he just knows what he looks like under there, that is making his mouth dry and his eyes wander…

“Any suggestions?” Bucky asks after a few seconds, he is no longer in the kitchen, he is now positioned in front of the bookshelf and Steve is still smiling, wondering how to best describe exactly what Bucky looked like to Sam when he goes home, not that he wants to leave.

“I thought the mother fucking champion of Mario Cart gets to choose.” Steve grins, he takes another sip of his glass of coke and watches Bucky. His gaze lingers of Bucky’s arm, and wonders how he didn’t notice the hand, and he smiles again, a soft small smile, Bucky trusted him enough to tell him, hell even show him, even though it wasn’t the arm that took his full attention with a wet shirtless Bucky standing in front of him.

“I do, but you’re the guest, so you can make suggestions.”

“Uhmm..” Steve starts, pulling out of his thoughts he quickly adds, “I don’t mind.” Bucky sighs and Steve gives him a small smile.

“How about Disney? Nat has a soft spot for Disney, so we have most of them, we could do Lion King, Fantasia, Aladdin, Mulan, Toy Story…” Bucky suggests, reading the spines as his eyes skim the shelf, he knows most of them off by heart by now, but it’s slightly harder to focus with Steve’s eyes on him.

“I haven’t seen Mulan.” Steve says quietly, and he bites on the inside of his cheek when Bucky’s body tenses.

“You haven- what?” Bucky asks in bewilderment as he turns around to gape at Steve, his blue eyes are holding onto his, and Steve is struggling to say anything.

“Haven’t seen it.” He manages, and wishes that that was not his answer.

“Holy shit, Nat would kill you if she was here. That’s it we are watching it. God, such a serious lack in your film education.” The look on Bucky’s face as he talks, only makes Steve want to kiss him more.

“Well I-” Steve starts, wanting to say something in his defence, he has seen most of the Disney movies to be far, almost all of them, almost.

“There is no excuse for this Stevie, god imagine what else you haven’t seen.” Bucky says, and Steve smiles, hoping that perhaps Bucky will educate him a little more. “You want to work at Disney and you haven’t even seen Mulan, sheesh.” Bucky adds with a smile before he grabs the dvd.

Usually Steve would be able to think up a clever comment in reply, but he can’t, he can barely do anything but fight the grin that is etching itself on his face. Bucky called him Stevie, and Steve doesn’t know quite what to do with that, one thing he does want to do is smile like crazy and kiss him, but he sticks with smiling, because right now that is all he can do.

“So no girlfriend then?” Bucky asks nonchalantly, and if Steve was already having trouble controlling the expression on his face with the use of ‘Stevie’, now it is far harder. What does help is that Bucky is on the balls of his feet in front of the dvd player, his back to him. “Doritos are in the cupboard.” He adds.

“No totally and completely single. Utterly alone, in that department at least.” Steve answers as he pushed himself off the couch and ventures into the kitchen.

“No long term relationships? No heart wrenching break up scenes?” Bucky’s tone is light, but still soft, and Steve can’t but smile at the thought that perhaps Bucky wants to know for other reasons, not just pure curiosity or small talk. Steve scans the kitchen as he wonders where the bowls may be placed.  “On your left.” Bucky adds, answering Steve’s unspoken question.

“Nope, never.” Steve replies, pulling open the door and grabbing a bowl off the shelf. Opening the chips and pouring them into the bowl he is glad for an excuse not to be looking at Bucky.

“Good looking fella like you, I don’t believe that for a second.” Bucky says easily, and Steve can feel himself blush, and then he remembers Bucky standing in the bathroom, shirtless and still dripping and he is trying his best to focus on putting the empty chip packet in the rubbish bin.

“That’s only recent.” Steve mutters.

“What?” 

Steve didn’t think he heard him, so when he looks up and Bucky is watching him an odd expression on his face, Steve bites down on his cheek for a second before he answers, “I didn’t always look like this, I was small and skinny and no on-”

“Lemme see.” Bucky asks, cutting across him. Steve sighs and hands Bucky the bowl before he grabs his phone off the table, and drops down on the couch. By the time Steve has found a picture, Bucky has turned off the lights, grabbed the remotes and is dropping down on the couch beside Steve, the tv screen already showing the disc menu. Handing Bucky his phone and hoping to god that Sam doesn’t chose now to send another text message, Steve bites down on the inside of his cheek again.

A smile splits across Bucky’s mouth and his eyes light up at the picture, and Steve braces himself for the mocking that will no doubt ensue, but instead, Bucky says, “You’re cute.”

“Ugh.” Steve groans. Cute is not much better than mocking.

“No I don’t mean that sort of cute, I mean cute as in I’d totally...” Bucky stop sand clears his throat. “Uh be friends with him.” Bucky finishes, glad that he managed to stop himself. Without another word, Bucky hits play and stares at the corner, and if Steve is grinning like crazy as he wonders what Bucky stopped himself from saying, then so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> шампунь is Russian for shampoo – no juicy secrets that Steve missed - again correct me if I'm wrong :)  
> This chapter is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.


	4. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shit, do you have an early class?” Bucky asks looking up from his phone as he locks the screen, suddenly concerned that Steve would have go to a lecture half awake.
> 
> “No it’s fine, I’m not even working tomorrow.” Steve smiles and instantly Bucky’s expression relaxes, and then he suddenly looks away, stares at his phones black screen for a few seconds, and Steve is still smiling, his eyes drifting shut for a second before he forces them open.
> 
> Bucky looks uncertain for a moment, he opens his mouth and then shuts it again, his teeth run across his bottom lip and he looks anywhere but at Steve before he chews on the corner of his lip shakes his head and looks as though he’s decided something when he looks up at Steve. “Come on, it’s too late, fuck, early for you to go home you may as well sleep here.”

Steve focuses on the film, he really does, he can’t believe he hasn’t seen Mulan before and it is amazing but with Bucky sitting beside him, his legs folded and a pillow resting on his lap which he is practically hugging, his knee is resting against Steve’s leg, it is hard to focus. And as he sings along to ‘I’ll make a man out of you’, Steve is trying his very best not to die. Sure he drops the occasional comment that makes Bucky grin, and Bucky keeps glancing over at him, no doubt to gauge his reaction to the film, and Steve cannot remember the last time he felt this relaxed.

He can see his phone light up against the table for about the twelfth time, and he knows Bucky has seen it to, but he knows its Sam, well it’s probably Sam. Leaning forward, trying his best to not make Bucky feel the need to move his leg from resting against Steve’s, Steve picks up the phone, and sure enough, he has 13 unread messages. Eleven of which are from Sam, and the other two are from Tony.

Opening Tony’s messages first, Steve tries to conceal a sigh.

_Didn’t I tell ya Barnes would fawn over you?_

**** _Make sure you use protection;)_

Glancing through the eleven messages from Sam he only sighs again, before typing out a quick reply to Sam,

_We’re not screwing, we’re watching a fucking movie._

And one to Tony,

_Fuck off._

Locking his phone and dropping it on the couch beside him, Steve looks back up at the screen and completely misses the little look that Bucky gives him. Sam should be in a lecture, staying focussed, but apparently teasing Steve is a far more pressing issue. An alarm beeps, Bucky grabs his phone and quickly shuts it off before peering back at the screen, his phone in hand as he watches silently for a few seconds.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asks, his eyes sliding over Steve for a moment, and Steve doesn’t blush, the tips of his ears don’t turn red, except they do and his cheeks flush, but the lights are off and he hopes Bucky can’t notice.

“’m fine.”

Steve shakes his head and looks back at the screen, he’s fine, he doesn’t get why Bucky is even worried, but the concern in his tone is not helping him focus on the movie at all, not as Bucky starts moving his knees just a little bit, before he stands up and Steve immediately misses the pressure of Bucky’s knee against his leg and Bucky’s body sitting behind him.

“I trust I won’t have to bribe you to take these.” Bucky asks almost a minute later.

He has two of Steve’s pills in his hand no doubt given to him from Sharon, knowing that Steve would ignore them until he absolutely needed them. Steve opens his mouth to argue but thinks better of it when Bucky’s eyes narrow and he gives him a look that says ‘don’t fight me on this’. Taking the glass of water from Bucky’s other hand, his metal hand that Steve’s fingers itch to draw, Bucky drops the two white pills onto Steve’s palm before dropping back on the couch beside him.

“Fine, done.” Steve sighs, and opens his mouth with an “ahh” before Bucky smiles and turns back to the movie. The corners of Steve’s lips curl into a small smile as Bucky crosses his legs, his knee resting on Steve’s again.

**…**

Steve is so absorbed in the movie it takes him a few seconds to realise that the newest sound is not in fact coming from the tv itself but from Bucky’s phone. Glancing over he catches a look flash across Bucky’s expression but it is gone before he can decipher what it was.  

“Do you want me to pause it?” Steve asks, his hand reaching out towards the remote but Bucky shakes his head and Steve’s arm drops back to his side.

“Nah, I’ll only be a minute.” Bucky answers as he presses the phone to his ear and pushes himself off the couch. “Oui” The word comes out as almost a sigh but it makes Steve smile, especially as he watches Bucky walk away, before Steve shakes his head and looks back at the tv, knowing he shouldn’t be checking out his ass.

He can hear Bucky talking, he can hear his voice and for some stupid and totally insane reason, it makes  him feel comfortable, he knows it shouldn’t, he knows that he barely knows Bucky, not really, but he feels like he does, he feels like Bucky knows him and that he knows Bucky. He feels like they’ve known each other for years, and god that makes Steve both a little scared and also happier than he thought he could feel.

Bucky laughs and Steve’s stomach churns. He knows it’s stupid, he knows that he isn’t laughing at him, he knows that he wouldn’t, well probably isn’t even talking about him, that he isn’t mocking him, but god, he can’t help the feeling that creeps up on him. Taking a deep breath in he focuses on the movie and pushes the thought away for ten whole minutes, and then Bucky laughs again, he laughs that laugh that means he will be laughing for a few minutes, the laugh that Steve loves, and Steve’s stomach churns again, and this time he can’t fight the feeling. The feeling that he isn’t good enough, the feeling that makes him want to curl up into a ball and die.

He hates this feeling, hates feeling that he isn’t good enough, and for a fleeting moment he thinks that perhaps he should leave, but instead he shakes his head and tries to focus on the movie, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach as he chews on the inside of his cheek, wishing that he didn’t feel like this, that he wasn’t so damn insecure.

He hates it, but he can’t stop it. He got so used to it in high school, but that wasn’t the first time he had to put up with it, this is a feeling that he’s had his whole life.

It wasn’t the feeling that he got when he protected people, no he liked that feeling. From his first day at kindergarten when he was smaller than everyone, when he got in fight with a boy who stole the plastic truck from a little girl who was playing happily on her own in the sandpit, Steve had wanted to stand up to him then and there, but he didn’t, but the next day when the same boy pushed the little girl over in the playground, Steve had grasped the little wooden hammer he had in his hand and hit the boy somewhat lightly over the head before sternly telling him, “No.” From then on out he hadn’t put up with anyone’s shit, and that wasn’t an issue, in fact he liked that about himself, one of the few things he actually liked.

The feeling that made his stomach sink, had nothing to do with anyone else, and everything to do with him, everything to do with the fact that he wasn’t good enough, that he could never be good enough, and that was a feeling he had been living with his entire life, and just because he was big and strong and people fawned over him nowadays, that didn’t make the feeling go away.

Not at all.

The feeling that anyone is better than him, that his friends hung out with him because of pity, that they would instantly pass him up with they got a better offer, and then they did, one by one they did. He wasn’t paranoid, it had happened time and time again to him, so he was just used to be on his own.

As Bucky’s laughter dies away, and Steve glances around him, alone on a couch, a sight that is so familiar, and he wishes that it wasn’t. He wishes that he wasn’t that he isn’t painfully reminded of how he was never irreplaceable; that he was slowly left out of everything one by one, he was never good enough. And he never would be.

He was never anyone’s first choice, god he wasn’t anyone’s choice back then, he was never good enough, and now he is peoples first choice, now he is good enough, but only because he is tall and broad and strong. He was never good enough then, so why would be good enough now? He is still the same person he was then, the same personality, the only difference is the package in which it comes. By some miracle Sam, and even Tony, seem to know him, actually know him, and they haven’t ditched him yet, but for some reason Steve is still waiting, waiting for them to realise, waiting for them to rectify their mistake and move on.

How can he not be insecure after years of being treated like shit? After years of being shoved in lockers because he was different? Years of having his clothes stolen after gym simply because he wouldn’t take shit from them, simply because he wouldn’t stand by and let the assholes at his school do or say what they wanted. How could he not be insecure?

He may look different, people actually stop to look at him, they stare at him, eyeing him up, but he knows that almost every single one of them one wouldn’t have even seen him before. And as he focuses on the movie, he can’t help but smile, Bucky was right, Mulan is incredible, and then Steve is grinning, grinning as he remembers the look on Bucky’s face when he showed him a picture of him before, before he was tall and broad and strong, he didn’t look at him the way everyone else had, it was different, that look on Bucky’s face had made Steve bite the inside of his lip, reining in a wider smile.

But alone on the couch, he grins without pause at the memory before grabbing his phone off the couch from beside him. His thumbs hover the screen before shakes his head, and types a message to Sam, and sends it without another thought,

_I think he sees me._

**…**

The Huns attacking the city by the time Steve can hear Bucky’s footsteps approaching the couch. He doesn’t want to turn around and ask who was on the phone, he knows that it was none of his business, but he wants to know all the same. He wants to know if it was his girlfriend, maybe boyfriend, or if it was just Natasha checking in. Steve doesn’t want to be jealous, he doesn’t but he can’t help. And when Bucky’s phone rings again just as Bucky is about to sit down beside Steve, Steve cannot miss the scowl that touches Bucky’s features before he sighs and mutters, “Nobody ever fucking calls.” Steve cannot help but grin at that, and Bucky’s scowl disappears, quickly replaced by a smile and then he is pushing the phone to his ear and he is walking towards his bedroom door again.

Sam has been home for a few hours now, it must almost 1am, and still Steve doesn’t really feel that tired, he is a little hungry, but he doesn’t want Bucky to notice the time, he doesn’t want to leave, and he doesn’t want to wake up and realise this was all a dream.

Bucky says something and Steve just misses it, but he knows it’s English and this time when he almost hisses into the phone, before a moment of silence, Steve wonders if this is the same person again. His eyes on the film, he tries to focus, but when Bucky bursts out laughing and Steve’s heart swells at the sound, he turns and looks over his shoulder, Bucky’s door is open this time, and he has back to Steve, his left hand is holding the phone to his ear and his right hand is running through his hair, and Steve sits still, his eyes on Bucky, and then Bucky moves, and Steve whips his head around, and sinks down the couch, his eyes on the film, wondering why the hell he can’t just focus, why he has to be so pathetic.  

Bucky isn’t speaking in English anymore, and Steve has a pretty firm idea that it must be Russian, and when Bucky sighs, “Natalia”, Steve is grinning. Bucky is back in the lounge, and he gives Steve an apologetic smile and Steve smiles back, hoping to convey a ‘no problem’ look. Bucky starts clearing up the bowls and other stuff that sits on the table in front of them, and with one look, silences Steve’s request to help.

Steve begrudgingly stays put on the couch, and watches the film as Bucky flicks on the kettle, and fills the sink with water. Steve turns around to offer help again but as he does, Bucky meets his eyes and shakes his head before poking his tongue out at him and turning back to washing the plate. He can barely hear Bucky talking, but even if he could he knows he wouldn’t be able to understand him.

As the credits start to roll, Steve pushes himself up to help wash the dishes but Bucky is placing the last two glasses away and draining the sink. He doesn’t know what to do but he knows he wants to help, he hates been useless.

“The movies done, can I help now?” Steve says with a smile, and Bucky gives him a smirk and uses his free hand to gesture to the bench which is clear, everything is washed dried and put away. Steve sighs and leans against the back of the couch, and Bucky says a few more words before he hangs up and pushes his phone into his back pocket.

“Sorry that was Nat, she won’t be home till morning.” Bucky says with a smirk, that Steve swears to god is simply meant to make him blush, before he turns his back to Steve as he talks and pulls open the fridge door.

“It’s fi-” Steve starts.

“Sandwich?” Bucky starts, looking over at Steve as he starts pulling ingredients out of the fridge, Steve nods and Bucky shuts the fridge door with a light flick of his foot, and pulls two plates out of the cupboard. “And before that it was Becca, my sister, I am really sorry, no one ever calls me I swear, let alone at this time.” Bucky continues, giving Steve another apologetic smile that is making Steve weak in the knees. He wants to help Bucky but Bucky simply shakes his head and goes back to slicing the tomato.

“I don’t mi-” Steve starts, not quite sure if he saying he doesn’t mind helping, or he doesn’t mind that Bucky was talking on the phone, but he is already feeling weirdly relieved that he was on the phone to his sister for twenty minutes.

“Oh! What did you think of the movie? Did you like it?” Bucky cuts across, his eyes flicking to the tv and then back to Steve, as it hits him that the movie is over, and he missed most of Steve’s reactions.

Steve doesn’t hesitate for a second before replying, “It was brilliant.”

Bucky grins, his eyes crinkling in the corners and Steve cannot help but smile back. It feels so easy being around Bucky, so relaxing and Steve doesn’t want to leave, not yet. His head is still pounding, and his body aches, but he doesn’t want to go home. “Told ya it would be. Now are there any other Disney movies that you shockingly have not seen?” Bucky asks, and Steve smiles even wider at the invitation to watch another film, to stay longer.

“Uh wel-” Steve starts, running through the list of Disney films in his head. He loves them, and he could have sworn that he’d seen almost all of them, but according to Bucky, there was a startling gap in his Disney film education, and the Bucky’s outrage at not seeing Mulan was, well, Steve smiles again, adorable.

Thankfully oblivious to Steve’s thoughts, Bucky slices some cheese as he cuts over Steve and asks, “Or are you in the mood for something less animated?”

“I don’t mind.” Steve answers. He doesn’t have to be up early tomorrow, and even so, he can do late nights, and right now he doesn’t want to leave. Bucky nods and looks up at him before glancing at the clock on the wall, and Steve marvels at the fact that Bucky doesn’t look bored, he seems to be genuinely enjoying Steve’s company, something that never fails to confuse Steve.

Bucky smiles at Steve, unsure what emotion Steve’s face is currently conveying, but one thing Bucky knows for sure, Steve looks a little forlorn, but before Bucky can decipher it the look has faded and is replaced with a small smile that quickly grows as Bucky says, “It’s kind of late, but I don’t know about you but this medication isn’t making me tired.”

“I’m up for another movie.”

“You pick, you’re the guest.” Bucky is grinning now, grinning at Steve, and Steve can’t believe that him saying yes to another movie, to spending more time with Bucky is eliciting this sort of reaction, Bucky doesn’t want him to leave, he is trying to make him stay, and that makes Steve grin like an idiot. “Everything?” Bucky adds gesturing to the ingredients, Steve nods and Bucky waves his hand towards the bookshelf.

Steve scans the bookshelf again, as Bucky continues to make their sandwiches, which a few minutes ago Steve would have insisted he didn’t need, but now he was starting to get hungry. He distractedly scans the bookshelf not really looking, just listening to Bucky humming to himself before his breath catches in his throat. “Who is this?” Steve asks, the words pushing their way out of his mouth before he can stop them.

He doesn’t want to ask and he immediately bites his tongue, but the words are already out, and Bucky is already looking over to where he is. In the photo is Bucky grinning like an idiot his arm wrapped around the woman that he saw Bucky with in the supermarket. She has a grin smacked across her face and the two of them are covered in snow, a snowman is beside them, and Steve chews on the inside of his cheek as Bucky glances across the room and over at the photo.

“That’s Becca.” Bucky says before turning back to the almost finished sandwiches and he just misses the grin that breaks out on Steve’s face, which he quickly turns to cover. Facing the bookshelf again he scans it, still grinning, pulling his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t even bothering resisting the urge to text Sam,

_You were right._

Before he can lock his phone, the little bubble in the corner pops up and a few seconds later a text from Sam comes through,

_That’s usually the case._

Which is quickly followed by another,

_Could I have some specifics thou_

Steve doesn’t even have to supress a sigh he is too busy grinning and quickly sends back,

_It was Bucky’s sis_

The text had just sent when a new one arrives,

_In cereal aisle?_

Steve quickly replies,

_Yup_

His phone screen dims before it lights up, and Sam sends two texts straight after each other,

_I fucking nkew it_

“Finito” Bucky says from behind him, and Steve locks his phone and shoves it into his front pocket before he turns around to find Bucky placing two plates on the coffee table, before heading back towards the kitchen, and Steve cannot help but let his eyes linger on him as he walks away, he just can’t. Bucky’s fingers curl around two mugs as he turns around to face Steve again looking almost, anxious.

“I made tea.” Bucky says and Steve goes to answer but Bucky adds, “For both of us.” Steve gives a small smile and opens his mouth to speak again but Bucky beats him to it. “We shouldn’t really drink, and coffee isn’t the best plan after 1am, so I hope you like tea, it’s herbal, so if you don’t want it, I can drin-” Bucky is rambling now, and his hand is running through his hair and Steve thinks the way he is nervously chewing on the corner of his lip as he speaks is the cutest thing ever.

“What sort?” Steve interrupts, he wants to take a step forwards, but decides against it and instead remains where he is, ignoring how much he wants to kiss Bucky right now.

“Mixed Berry. And no it’s not Nat’s its mine, no shame.” Bucky smiles, both mugs in hand as he walks towards Steve, his smile is meeting his eyes, that smile that makes Steve’s heart ache especially with his blue eyes looking so perfect, and Steve no longer gives a shit that it is 1am. He doesn’t have work tomorrow and even if he did he wouldn’t care, and he doesn’t have a lecture till 2.

“Sounds brilliant.” Steve grins as he accepts the cup, his fingers curling around the handle before he takes a sip and murmurs appreciatively before turning back to the shelf, scanning for a dvd to watch.

**…**

They end up watching the Gladiator, and yes Bucky does quote a few of the speeches, and Steve cannot help but grin, and Bucky commentates the movie, offering insight, random facts and also sarcastic comments throughout the entire first two hours, and the best thing is, he doesn’t even really realise he is doing it, ever few minutes or so he apologies and promises to shut up, but barely a minute later he is talking again and Steve is laughing and his breath catches in his throat when Bucky leans against Steve, their sides pressed up against each other as Bucky drapes a blanket over them.

Before Steve knows it, it is almost 4am and the movie isn’t over, but Bucky has been silent for a little while now, and his head is resting against Steve’s shoulder, which Steve doesn’t mind, not in the slightest, it’s just that, he has no idea what to do now. He’s too tired to watch the rest of the movie, sleep has finally caught up to him, he knows where the remote is, so he leans over trying not to move too much as shuts off the tv and the dvd player. He moves slowly, not wanting to wake Bucky, not wanting Bucky’s head to slip off his shoulder, not wanting to take that peaceful look off Bucky’s face, not wanting to-

“Fuck.” Bucky mutters as his phone vibrates against the wooden table, waking him up. “Oh shit, I fell asleep didn’t I?” He runs his hand over his face and his moves himself off Steve’s shoulder, and his body away from Steve’s side and picks his phone up off the table, and groans when he notices the time.

“Only for a little bit.” Steve answers honestly, already missing Bucky’s face against his shoulder, already missing the loss of Bucky by his side.

“It’s totally your fault, your shoulder is far too comfortable.” Bucky says as he covers a yawn. A comment forms in Steve’s mind but the look in Bucky’s eyes makes him forget whatever it was he was going to say.

“Really?” Steve’s voice is softer than he wanted it to be, but Bucky doesn’t seem to notice as he staring down at his phone typing out a reply.

“No, god my neck hurts like a bitch.” Bucky answers, rubbing the spot on his neck with one hand, as the other hand types out a reply to the text that woke him.

“Fuck off.” Steve retorts and for a second regrets it but Bucky gives a sleepy grin and laughs, and Steve smiles back. Steve stretches a little, something he hadn’t done for a little while, not wanting to disturb Bucky, not wanting to wake him, god he looked so perfect with his eyes shut, his eyelashes were longer than Steve thought, casting shadows on his cheeks, and he looked so calm as his slept, so still and peaceful.

“Shit, do you have an early class?” Bucky asks looking up from his phone as he locks the screen, suddenly concerned that Steve would have go to a lecture half awake.

“No it’s fine, I’m not even working tomorrow.” Steve smiles and instantly Bucky’s expression relaxes, and then he suddenly looks away, stares at his phones black screen for a few seconds, and Steve is still smiling, his eyes drifting shut for a second before he forces them open.

Bucky looks uncertain for a moment, he opens his mouth and then shuts it again, his teeth run across his bottom lip and he looks anywhere but at Steve before he chews on the corner of his lip shakes his head and looks as though he’s decided something when he looks up at Steve. “Come on, it’s too late, fuck, early for you to go home you may as well sleep here.”

“Okay.” Steve says as evenly as he can, he resists the urge to grin and do a fist pump, but he feels like even if he couldn’t he is far too tired to do one anyway.

“Nat will kill me if anyone sleeps in her bed, and god, you’re far too tall for the couch, plus it’ll kill your back, you don’t mind sleeping in-” Bucky is nervous Steve can tell, he is chewing on the corner of his lip as he speaks and is running his human hand through his hair again as he talks.

“With you?” Steve says, his voice surprisingly normal considering the shrieking that is going on in his head. He knows it doesn’t mean anything, it’s not about that, but with his over tired brain, he can’t help but panic a little, and freak out at the thought of being able to walk up next to Bucky.

“Yeah but if-” Bucky starts nervously not interpreting that stunned looked on Steve’s face right.

“No that’s totally fine.” Steve answers, trying not to smile and succeeding, almost. The small smile that curls the corners of his lips just a little bit, forces Bucky’s tongue out between his lips just for a moment, quickly darting across his bottom lip before disappearing again.

**…**

Steve’s heart doesn’t flutter at how domestic everything is, Bucky actually lets him help this time taking the dishes into the kitchen and leaving them by the sink, both of them are far too tired to even consider washing them.

“Medication.” Bucky says simply as he hands him the box before disappearing into the bathroom. Steve swallows the pills in one gulp and pulls out his phone, makes sure it is on silent and that the alarms are all turned off before he sends a text to Sam,

_Staying at Buck’s, be home sometime tomorrow, probs after lunch._

He ignores all the texts that Sam has sent since the start of Gladiator, wishing him and Bucky well, asking whether or not they left a tie on the door, or if Sam should ever expect to see Steve again, as he assumes that Steve has chosen to spend the rest of his life in Bucky’s apartment. Steve sighs at those and half a dozen others, but can’t help but smile as he stuffs his phone in his pocket and downs the rest of the water just as Bucky wanders out of the bathroom with two toothbrushes in his right hand, “It’s a clean one I swear.” He smiles as he throws it to Steve, who despite what all his old school mates, well acquaintances, would have bet their life savings on in his youth, he caught it.

Barely five minutes later, Steve’s teeth are clean and his phone is on Bucky’s bed side table and he is looming over the bed, wondering how on earth this is where he ended up at this time in the morning, in Bucky Barnes’ room about to go to sleep, and if he wasn’t overly tired with his body aching he would no doubt be freaking out a lot more, and be several shades redder.

“Do you have a side?” Bucky asks, his voice much quieter, his voice almost silenced by exhaustion. Steve flinches slightly at how close Bucky is, he didn’t realise he had left the bathroom, let alone that he was shutting his bedroom door.

“Not really, always had a single, you?” Steve still hasn’t moved, he is wearing a pair of Bucky’s sleep shorts and the same shirt from before, and while he is exhausted, he is also savouring every second of this.

“Right.”

It takes a few seconds with Steve’s tired brain to figure out whether Bucky means the side of the bed he sleeps on or if he is simply agreeing with him. Instead of staring at him blankly for a few seconds he opts for asking, “Which right?” Bucky is already walking towards the side of the bed he presumably wants to sleep on and Steve is still standing unmoved.

“Shit no left, right looking down, but left lying in.” Bucky answers sleepily, almost grumbling at Steve’s question as he fights off another yawn and pulls the covers up before slipping into bed. Without a word, Steve does the same, pushing back the covers before climbing, his breath catches as he realises something that he can’t believe he hadn’t realised before. The entire bed smells like Bucky. As his pulls the covers up over him, his back to Bucky as he burrows his head into Bucky’s pillow he smiles, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Night Stevie.” Bucky’s voice is quiet and sincere, and makes Steve’s smile widen. _Stevie,_ the word bounces around his brain and he mouths it silently to himself, loving just the way it sounds rolling off Bucky’s tongue.

“Night Buck.” Steve answers, his voice soft with sleep as his fingers curl around the corner of the pillow.

He wants to savour this all of this, the feeling of lying with Bucky beside him, but he is too exhausted, and within a few seconds he is asleep, a smile on his lips as he fades into unconsciousness. Beside him Bucky has a small smile twitching at the corner of his lips, as his eyes fall shut. Bucky doesn’t really have a side of the bed, he just knows that he always manages to find himself waking up on the left side of the bed, and he doesn’t want to wake up his arm wrapped around Steve, well okay yeah he does, but he knows he can’t, he knows that that isn’t what Steve wants, except that is exactly what Steve wants…

**…**

Lost in the world between waking and sleeping, Steve gives a small content sigh as his arm pulls the warmth closer to him and his legs push in closer. The warm expanse of fabric under his fingers is rising and falling, and some of his fingers curl sleepily around fabric as he rubs his nose across soft skin and smiles to himself, feeling warm and relaxed. He doesn’t usually have nightmares, but sometimes he does, and he hasn’t woken up feeling this relaxed in weeks. His eyelids flutter open for a second before closing again. He can feel the sun against his face, as it shines through a small gap between the curtains, and most of the blankets have been kicked to the foot of the bed, and the only thing keeping him warm, is the body lying beside him, that he has an arm wrapped around, his body slots perfectly into place and he smiles softly again as he breathes against Bucky’s neck…

Steve’s eyes snap open and his brain finally catches up with him. He knows where he is, he isn’t confused and caught between memory and thought, distantly he hears a shower turning on and he absentmindedly notes that Nat must be back from her date. But that isn’t what he can focus on right now. What he is focussed on is Bucky’s body curled up against his, Steve’s fingers uncurl and Steve shifts his arm, moving it slowly away, trying his best not to wake Bucky, but Bucky shifts, and Steve pauses, holding his breath as he waits. Part of him wants to move swiftly, getting as far away as he can before Bucky wakes, but then Bucky’s arm shifts, and rests atop of Steve’s and before Steve can let out the breath he is holding, Bucky’s fingers intertwine with Steve’s and without a second thought, Steve pushes Bucky a little further away from him, shifting his hips back, and hoping to god that Bucky didn’t wake up earlier and feel Steve against him.  

Eyelids droop and Steve finds his body relaxing. He doesn’t want to go to sleep, well actually he does, and after he glances at the clock sitting on Bucky’s bedside table, he lets his eyes shut, it’s not even 8 o’clock, his body still aches, but every punch he received yesterday was worth it, it was worth this moment, and as he forgets and lets his body move closer to Bucky as he pulls him close, his eyelids flutter open and he notices the bedroom door is open just a crack, light for the living room spilling in along with light that seeps in between the curtains, and Steve can’t help but give a sleepy smile as he drifts back off to sleep.

**…**

Bucky’s body is still pressed up against Steve’s when Steve once again wakes a few hours later. The room is much lighter this time and as Bucky’s chest steadily rises and falls beneath Steve’s palm he guesses he is still asleep. He can’t look at Bucky’s face, he knows that with one look at his sleeping face his resolve with shatter, he won’t get up, but he can’t help himself and he lets out a sigh as his eyes rake over Bucky’s face, a peaceful expression that he wears so perfectly. Just like the time before, Steve is uncomfortably hard and Bucky’s ass pressing up against him is not helping, so once again Steve shuffles backwards, this time pulling his arm away, as he ignores almost every part of him that doesn’t want to move, that just wants to lie there, and not ever get up.

With Steve’s arm no longer wrapped around him, Steve’s breath no longer on his neck, Steve’ body no longer pushed up against him, Bucky lets out a small soft noise of displeasure as Steve’s body pulls completely away from his. Bucky shifts a little, moving towards Steve but Steve is already standing up, fighting the temptation to lie back down and pull Bucky close to him, but instead he slips out of Bucky’s room, pulling the door softly behind him and wondering what the hell to do now.

**…**

“Coffee?” Steve asks ten minutes later when Bucky emerges from the bedroom, his hair dishevelled and his expression softened from sleep. He runs his hand through his hair and nods, his eyes still half closed as Steve pushes a mug into his hand and Bucky’s eyes fall shut as he takes a long sip, completely ignoring Steve’s almost shrieked warning, “It’s still hot!” Steve isn’t certain, but if his memory served him correctly, he was pretty sure that Bucky got his coffee black whenever he popped in during the early shift. He watches something flutter across Bucky’s expression, and he ignores the text message that lights up his phone.

“You remembered.” Bucky says softly as he eyelids flutter open and he leans against the counter, his eyes on Steve watching him with a curious expression. Steve’s eyes widen slightly and Bucky nods towards his mug. Steve gives a small smile as he places his phone down on the counter and takes a small tentative sip of his coffee, he isn’t sure why he bothers, he knows its drinkable, unlike Bucky, he doesn’t take his coffee black in the morning.

Bucky looks across as Steve thoughtfully before he places his coffee on the counter, and heads towards Nat’s bedroom door which is pulled to a close. Steve closes his eyes and takes another sip of his coffee, needing the caffeine to wake up his brain, he feels exhausted and sore, but he also finds himself almost content. Taking another sip, his eyes open as Bucky says, “Your clothes are clean and dry, so you can jump in the shower and I’ll redo that bandage when you get out.” Walking towards Steve as he speaks, he has Steve’s clothes and a towel in hand.

“Tha-” Steve starts.

“No arguments Stevie.” Bucky says and Steve shakes his head and groans but he can’t stop the smile that betrays him as he heads towards the bathroom.

Pulling the bathroom door shut behind himself, Steve isn’t sure if he will ever get over Bucky calling him ‘Stevie’. He hates been babied, but Bucky isn’t babying him, not exactly, he seems to actually care, and is looking after him like he it is the most natural thing to do even though Steve is easily broader and slightly taller, and Steve can’t say no, so he turns on the shower and ignores the mirror cause he knows he looks like shit and he doesn’t need confirmation to see how the bruises are darkening.

He ignored the temptation to sneak a peek into Bucky and Nat’s cupboards, but he can’t help but scan the shower, looking at the bottle, and taking a whiff of a few of them before he turns towards the spray, closes his eyes and just zones out, focusing on the water as it hits his skin, focusing on the warmth, focusing on the dull ache in his body and the odd unfamiliar feeling of contentment.

Determined to at least make him breakfast when he gets out of the shower, Steve resists the urge to use the shampoo for about three minutes, before he gives in and pops the cap, squirting a little onto his palm and he grins, this is the same shampoo he smelt this morning, the same scent, among others, that wrapped around him, and made him feel safe and relaxed, the scent that reminds him of having Bucky lying in his arms.

**…**

“How do you like your toast?” Steve asks, his back to Bucky as he glances around the kitchen trying to remember where the plates are, but he doesn’t want to ask, doesn’t want to give Bucky an invitation to help, he wants to do this for Bucky.

“You don’t have to do this.” Bucky says for the fifth or sixth time. Steve shakes his head and nudges Bucky out of his way, away from the stove top where the oil is sizzling away, the frying pan almost ready, Bucky has tried to help several times already and each time Steve has pushed him away, wanting to do this himself.

Steve sighs and answers, “I know, but I want to.” There’s an uncertain moment when he sees Bucky lips part, about to say something and then his mouth shuts and Steve wonders what he was going to say, but then Bucky is shifting, opening a door and pulling out two plates and handing them to Steve before Steve can stop him.

“Do I have to ban you from your own kitchen?” Steve asks a minute later as Bucky moves to put the bacon in the frying pan. Fingers wrap around his wrist, holding Bucky’s hand still only a few centimetres from the pan, Steve glances at Bucky, watches that tongue dart between pink lips and Steve drops Bucky’s hand and takes half a step back, feeling the tips of his ears redden as he does so.

“You can try.” Bucky grins and pushes himself up on the kitchen bench, impossibly long legs swinging so gracefully as he watches Steve, fingers curling around a glass of orange juice which he brings to his lips and slowly sips and Steve pauses for a moment as he fights the urge to look at Bucky, instead he glances over to him and has to physically take another step away from Bucky when he sees him swallow out of the corner of his eye.

**…**

“No I like that.” Bucky smiles, eyes meeting Steve’s before he looks away, under the pretence that he needs to make sure the eggs aren’t burning but simply because the smile that is curling Bucky’s lips is making Steve light headed.

Steve isn’t even sure how they even got onto this topic, one moment he was asking where Bucky kept the black pepper and the next they were talking about Steve, Bucky asking questions and Steve answering them, and then of course Bucky had mentioned the fight, had asked a few more questions and so used to defending himself in conversations that started off like this Steve had answered a few questions before he got defensive, a defence he only got a few words into before Bucky cut him off.

A small chuckle escapes his lips as he plates the grilled tomatoes. Glancing over to Bucky he inquires jokingly, “You like that I beat up strangers?”

“Assholes, you beat up assholes that totally have it coming.” Bucky corrects him, and Steve nods without meaning to. He likes that Bucky gets it, likes that Bucky sees it his way, likes that he doesn’t need to explain himself, that he doesn’t need to be defensive.

Remembering their earlier conversation and with so many other words battling to come out but none he wants to use, Steve questions with a smile, “Knight in leather?”

“Precisely.”  Bucky grins and Steve is distracted for a moment, a moment that gives Bucky a chance to slide off the kitchen bench in one graceful movement and nudge Steve out of the way. Steve groans and tries to wrestle for control of the frying pan as Bucky flips the bacon, grinning in triumphant before he adds, “A regular caped crusader.”

Another laugh, this time louder, as Steve smiles at Bucky’s ridiculous comment. Still trying to reclaim the frying pan Steve’s body is almost pushed up against Bucky as he asks, “So what I’m batman?”

“Hmm… no not batman.” Bucky sighs thoughtfully as his eyes run up and down Steve, assessing and Steve rolls his eyes and tries to use Bucky’s considering to get the frying pan back. “Toast popped.” Bucky adds, nodding to the toaster, not ready to relinquish control of the frying pan.

A piece of toast on each plate, Steve pulls open a draw before pulling open another, which reveals the cutlery and he grins in triumph before he asks, “Superman maybe?”

“No not him either.” Bucky hums. He shakes his head as he watches Steve out of the corner of the eye, waiting for him to attempt to take over cooking this late breakfast of theirs. Two more pieces of bread are slipped into the toaster and Steve leans against the bench as Bucky asks, “Wait what do those name quizs always ask? When’s your birthday?”

“July 4th.” Steve answers on instinct, and Bucky’s lips curl at the new nugget of information, and then they smirk and Steve knows exactly why.

Bucky laughs, the sound rich and warm, filling the kitchen before he flips the bacon, eyes fixed on Steve as he grins, “You’re shitting me, Independence day?”

“Someone has to be born then.” Steve answers. He actually likes having it then, aside for the obvious massive fireworks display on his birthday it always meant that his mum would have the evening off so they could spend it together, plus no one forgets the date.

“Oh my god.” Bucky chuckles, absentmindedly he notes that Steve’s birthday is not that far away, but he is far too caught up in the fact that his birthday is July 4th to dwell on that now. Steve elbows him lightly and he only laughs more, prompting Steve to jab him again.

“Shut up.” Steve grumbles as Bucky continues to grin, laughter still spilling from his lips and making his body shake. Hoping to use Bucky’s distraction against him, Steve tries to regain control of the frying pan but Bucky simply ‘tsks’ and goes back to thinking.

They lapse into a few moments of silence, Steve watches the toaster and waits for the nickname that he knows is inevitable. Bucky searches his brain for a suitable name for Steve and Steve tries his best to think about nothing at all. Eyes sparkling Bucky shouts unexpectedly, “Oh I got it!”

“I feel worried, should I be worried?” Steve asks, trying his best not to smile, and just managing to do so.

Bucky elbows him in the ribs and gives an exasperated sigh, “Rude its genius.”

“Fine, let’s hear it then.” Steve smiles, wondering at how familiar they are already, but far more curious to hear what name Bucky has in mind, he can ponder his thoughts later, now he is curious at what is making Bucky’s eyes shine so bright.

“Captain America!” Bucky shouts, grinning triumphantly. Shifting his body to face Steve so fast that he almost tips the contents of the frying pan on the floor, just barely managing to save it, he ignores the look Steve gives him and continues to grin.

Steve sighs, “Why not a Private or a General?”

“Cause Captain just sounds so much fucking better Stevie.” Bucky grins, his eyes bright and looking at him now is like looking at the fucking sun, but Steve can’t look away, can’t not smile in return. Does his heart melt and his legs shake? Absolutely. Is it worth it? Definitely. Bucky doesn’t seem to notice how Steve’s eyes linger on him as he turns to empty the contents of the frying pan onto their plates, and as the last of the toast pops behind him, Steve finally looks away.

**…**

This hadn’t been his intention, he had thought that eating on the couch would have made it easier, that he didn’t have to make conversation while watching Bucky’s mouth, watching his hands, it meant they could sit beside one another, glancing over occasionally, but mainly avoiding each others gaze. What he hadn’t expected was Bucky crossing his legs, his knee resting against Steve’s thigh and his elbow grazing his every few seconds. He desperately tries not to think of this morning, how Bucky’s body felt lying so close to his, tries desperately not to think of the way Bucky had grinned at him, looking so fucking perfectly after he dubbed Steve ‘Captain America’ but of course, he fails miserably at not thinking of either, and can think of almost nothing else.

Plate half empty Steve cannot help but marvel at how easy conversation is, cannot help but be surprised at how often Bucky laughs at a joke he makes, how often he laughs at a joke Bucky makes. As much as he wants to stay here forever, he can’t, he has to leave, just because he wills time to stop, the clock doesn’t stop ticking, and he’s ignored the outside world for so many hours now, he can’t do it for much longer.

They fall into a comfortable silence, one that barely lasts a minute before Steve is breaking it as he says, “I should head off soon.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Bucky hesitate, his hand pauses for a split second but then he is moving again, and Steve is sure he imagined it, imagined the way the smile flickered for a moment, he must have imagined that Bucky looked upset at the prospect of him leaving.

“Yeah.” Bucky answers, nods slowly and gives Steve a smile before he looks down at his plate again, shovels up another forkful of egg and leans further back against the couch cushion.

**…**

Bucky hesitates, his fingers wrapping around the door handle but he pauses, a quick glance at his face Steve can just make out that Bucky’s teeth are biting down on his bottom lip as he thinks for a second. His sketchbook in hand Steve wants to say something, anything, but he can’t bring himself to speak, so many thoughts rushing around his head, colliding, swarming his brain, and he can’t think of a single thing to say.

“In case you need my help.” Bucky says as Steve drops his sketchbook into his bag before he stuffs his phone into his back pocket.

Steve raises his gaze, letting his eyes meet Bucky’s as he processes what Bucky just said, he raises his eyebrow questioningly as he answers, “Huh?” Steve has no idea what Bucky means, but as he shifts his gaze down from Bucky’s tantalising smile he notices that Bucky’s phone is in his hand and he is holding it to Steve. He looks nervous, Steve almost shakes his head at that thought, he won’t be, can’t be nervous, Steve is simply seeing what he wants to be there.

“Well Cap something tells me you like get punched, so flick me a text when you have ‘em on the ropes.” Bucky grins and Steve can’t help bark out a laugh as he wraps his fingers around the phone and he starts putting in his number.

For the last twenty minutes Steve had been trying out a way to get Bucky’s number, and not for a single second did he even consider the possibility that Bucky would want his, let alone ask him for it, while prompting him to text him when he needed him. The number is in faster than Steve would like, because now he doesn’t have any excuse to not look Bucky, and he doesn’t know where he can look without wanting to push that stray strand of hair off of Bucky’s forehead or run his tongue against Bucky’s bottom lip. When Steve chances a look at Bucky he looks uncertain and is chewing the corner of his mouth, and the tips of his ears are reddening, he almost looks nervous, and Steve cannot think of a single reason why.

“Or whenever.” Bucky adds as their eyes meet, and Steve offers him back the phone.

“I’d like that.” Steve answers, with a soft smile as Bucky fingers wrap around the phone, his fingertips graze Steve’s palm and Steve peeks a look at Bucky.

Bucky is no longer chewing nervously at the corner of his mouth and he looks relaxed, almost a little pleased by Steve’s comment. He stuffs his phone in his back pocket and proceeds to smile, almost shyly at Steve. For a moment they just stand in silence and then Bucky is clearing his throat and pulling open the front door and leaning against it, and Steve no longer has any excuses left to stay, he has class in less than an hour and he really should be going.

Taking another step towards the hallway, his bag slung over his shoulder, Steve starts, “Thank-”

“Don’t mention it.” Bucky cuts across him with a smile. God, that smile almost makes Steve weak in the knees, the way it lights up his grey blue eyes, making them shine as his lips curl, which only makes Steve want to kiss him more.

His feet are bringing him forward, but he doesn’t want to leave, and far too soon he is standing in the hallway, and after giving Bucky one last look, Steve’s feet are carrying him down the hallway, away from Bucky. He can feel Bucky’s eyes on him and as he pushes the door to the stairwell open he can hear Bucky’s front door shut, and as he hurries down the staircase, a grin forms on his face as his phone vibrates in his back pocket, and he entertains the idea that it is from Bucky, texting him already.

He still hasn’t checked his phone when he reaches his apartment building, the walk was much faster than he expected, his body still aches but his strides are longer and faster as he hums to himself, a smile on his face that isn’t even swayed by the rain clouds that are forming above him. Bouncing up the stairs, not even phased by the broken elevator, Steve is still humming to himself, hoping that for some strange reason Sam will be home, but he knows he won’t be, he’ll be in a lecture, which means that Steve will have to wait to ramble and freak out on him later. Reaching their floor, he pushes the door open and heads down the hallway, just happy, despite the fact that the sheer number of steps would have ruled him a little breathless and would have defeated him a few years ago, he wouldn’t have even be able to make it halfway up.

**…**

His phone vibrates against his thigh about twenty minutes into his lecture, and however tempted he is to check it immediately he waits. His pen sliding across the page, a few seconds later his phone vibrates again, and this time he pulls it out of his pocket, just checking that it isn’t Sam or… it’s an unknown number, which most likely means one thing.

_Nat was not pleased you hadn’t seen Mulan._

_This is Bucky btw._

 Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he bites down on his cheek reining in a wide smile. He can’t stop the smile completely though and nor does he want to.

Ten minutes later he has finally forgotten about the texts and is avidly listening, well as avidly as one can listen to his professor drone on and on, his phone vibrates again, and he tries to ignore it again but as his phone vibrates again only seconds later, he ducks his head and pulls out his phone. Steve’s discipline is beaten by his curiosity. It’s not that he doesn’t check his phone in lectures, he just tries to avoid doing so, but today he doesn’t really care.

Two new messages are on his lock screen now, above the last two unread ones, all of which are from an unknown number.

_Did you forget your shirt?_

_Shit nevermind._

Steve grins and stares at his screen, completely torn. He needs to have some witty perfect reply, but nothing comes to mind, his mind goes almost entirely blank, and he can’t think of a single intelligible thing to say, so instead of sending a hasty reply that he will no doubt regret later, he sighs and stuffs his phone into his front pocket and tries to zone back into his lecture, wondering how much he will be able to actually retain. Four messages and no reply, and he has no idea what to say.

**…**

Heading to his next lecture Steve wracks his brain for a reply, weaving between the students idly wandering and those who are moving as fast as possible obviously late to something, he tries to think up something witty. He needs to think of something, anything. Narrowly avoiding walking into a quickly opened door, Steve dodges it and pulls himself out of his head. He spends the next two hours barely thinking about Bucky, or well as little as he can. He’s not tired yet, so his mind isn’t slow, the opposite actually, in the moments he isn’t thinking about Bucky he is actually better focused, thoughts forming faster, ideas coming quicker.

He corrects mistakes, asks questions, actually finishes a few things he has been meaning to complete for the past few weeks and starts to plan his next assignment. No one comments on the bandage on his forehead or the scraps or the way that Steve pauses and looks off into the distance, his eyes unfocused and his smile bleary. He chats to his classmates a few times, smiling at them and they smile back. He knows it is stupid but everything seems different, it feels different, and for the first time in a while he actually feels light, feels like he could do anything, everything, and in a moment of clarity, he pulls out his phone and texts Bucky back.

**…**

Walking out of his lecture, lost in his head, Steve doesn’t even need to actively ignore Tony to not hear him as he almost walks straight past him. He hasn’t crashed yet, but his limbs are heavy, and he has no intention to head to the gym like he was initially planning to do after his lecture.

“Shit, hey.” Steve says, looking up at Tony as he stops walking, only seconds away from colliding with him. Tony gives him an easy smile, but Steve can see the way Tony chews on the inside of his cheek for a few seconds before Tony asks, “Early dinner?”

“Why not.” Steve answers with a shrug and Tony grins. A few steps forward, a few more, a couple minutes of walking in silence, Steve mulling over the lecture, mentally working out when he should start his assignment by before his brain catches up to the way that Tony keeps glancing over at him with a smile touching on his lips, a smile that Steve knows far too well. Fingers curling over bag strap Steve takes half a dozen steps before he asks, “Will Samuel be joining us?”

“Sam’s lecture just finished.”

His question unanswered, Steve observes Tony curiously, surprised that he hasn’t brought up Bucky yet, he would be surprised at Tony’ self-restraint, but something is dawning on him now, he is putting the puzzle pieces together in his head, but instead of asking Tony about what he really wants to ask about he simply says, “How intriguing, don’t really see how that answers my question though, he coming or not?”

“We’ll meet him there smart ass.” Tony grins, his phone that Steve didn’t even notice was in his hand slips back into his pocket as he leads Steve to wherever they are meeting Sam.

Heat crackles against his skin, and Steve readjusts his bag, his footfalls just out of sync with Tony’s, his strides longer and slower to allow Tony to keep pace, to allow Tony to be one step ahead of Steve as he has no idea where they are going. Thoughts colliding and swarming in his head, theories brewing and speculations silently building, Steve’s palm slides over his phone, checking it is still there before he asks, “Okay so what’s the point of this serendipitous dinner anyway?”

“Just a friendly interrogation.” Tony answers nonchalantly, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses as he glances over at Steve and nods to the left, indicating that they are changing direction again.

“A what now?” Steve asks, not expecting that answer at all. Sure he didn’t expect Tony to lie, or to gloss over anything, this was Tony after all, the man who had asked two separate people whether they thought Steve was good looking only a few days previously.

Tony smiles hello, nods his head to the group that passes, and they both of them stay silent for a few steps before Tony starts, his bright grin a warning to Steve, “You spent the night at your boy Barnes place and yet-“

“Fuck.” Steve mutters, and only partly because he just walked into a wooden bench. Tony chuckles as Steve rubs his knee before walking away from Tony and the mocking laughter spilling between his lips.

“You haven’t told us about it yet.”

“It was last night and this is the first time I’m seeing you, what did you expect me to do, call you as soon as I left and excitedly babble?” Steve asks. He won’t tell Tony that he almost did call Sam to excitedly babble, and that he would have called Tony straight after, but for some reason he had resisted.

Tony shrugs and smiles as he answers, “That would have worked yeah.”

Steve rolls his eyes and quickens his pace just to piss off Tony. His strides become faster trying to match Steve’s pace and he starts, “There isn’t mu-“

“If you say there isn’t much to tell, then help me god.” Tony cuts him off, glancing over at Steve who sighs in reply, clamps his lips shut and continues to walk the rest of the way there in silence. They both know Tony would do nothing, both know that Steve is enough of a shit to say it just to piss Tony off, the reason Steve is silent is because if he let one detail slip, then the rest would just start spilling out, and it would be so much easier and far more convenient to only have to tell this story once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd so mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> Feel free to come visit me on [ tumblr ](http://alwayswithatoneofsurprise.tumblr.com/) :)


	5. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gives Tony a silent glance but doesn’t say anything, although he does kick Tony under the table when he says, “It’s a little like that Steve.”
> 
> “He’s nothing like him!” 
> 
> He isn’t meaning to be defensive, doesn’t mean to almost spit out the words, but he can’t help it. Can’t help the way he glares a little a Tony for the mere suggestion that Bucky is even a little bit like, like-

Sam’s waiting for them when they arrive, sitting at a table by the window, in the shade somewhat hidden from everyone else, obviously Sam is wanting a conversation, a conversation that Steve isn’t too sure he wants to have. It’s not that he is entirely opposed to having it, he’s just unsure, he can feel his stomach twist at the thought but also his heart beat quickens at the prospect of talking about last night. He had been excited to ramble to Sam, but then that feeling had faded on his way to his lecture, and now he’s torn.

“Did you two get lost?” Sam asks as soon as they get within ear shot.

“Perhaps.” Steve replies.

He doesn’t want to say how he dragged his feet along behind him for a few minutes, trying to find an excuse for him to avoid this conversation, postpone it, not forever just for a wee bit. But he can’t help the little bit of excitement he feels, the way the corners of his lips are betraying him, the way that he wants to tell them everything, even though there isn’t much to tell. He wants to go over everything, wants them to tell him what they think, but he wants to keep everything just between Bucky and him, their secret, something only they share.

Sighing to himself, still undecided, Steve plonks himself down in the seat opposite Sam. Leaning back against it, he wonders for a moment if they will actually grill him or accept his silence. He manages to stifle a laugh at the thought, there is no way they are going to let him say nothing, and part of him thinks there is no way his mouth will let him say nothing either. He wants to tell them everything, he usually does tell them most things, it helps make it real, and if he tells them about Bucky, then perhaps it will feel more like reality less like some dream.

Steve pulls himself out of his thoughts and looks around them, he doesn’t recognise this place, it’s on a street he so often walks down, he recognised the outside, but he’s never been in here before, just another new experience for him, it seems this week is chocked full of them. His gaze flitters to the menu that Sam had pushed in front him and he asks, “Any good?”

“Vague as usual.” Sam answers, not lifting his eyes off the menu.

Steve’s eye roll is practically audible as he answers, “This place.” Tony shrugs and Sam nods, both of them don’t look up from their menus.

The three of them lapse into silence for a minute which becomes two, and just when the third minute begins to roll by Sam breaks the silence as he glances up from his menu and looks straight at Steve as he says, “I know you are simply bursting to tell us dude, so start talking.”

“Where should I start?” Steve answers, to which they both groan in reply, roll their eyes and exchange a glance. Steve shuffles in his seat, gets comfortable as his tongue darts out between his lips and wets them, and then he sighs, Sam’s right, he’s busting to tell them, and so he does.

**…**

Food is chosen, ordered and waited for. Tony and Sam are avid listeners as Steve speaks, trying not to gloss over anything, well not much, some bits he skips over, like his thoughts, like how he wanted lick the water droplets of Bucky’s chest when he emerged shirtless and still damp, baring his metal arm. Steve started at the beginning, told them about the fight, about the hospital. He took tentative sips of water between long rambling sentences, he ignored Tony and Sam’s comments, well for the most part. Some made him groan while others made him laugh.

He slowly picked at his food as he kept talking, each detail flowing out of him, his face lit up as he recalls last night and everything that transpired since waking today and he knows that they will tease him a little, not unkindly, but he doesn’t care. He glosses over some of the details of actually waking up beside Bucky, skipping over parts that he really had no need to share. The plates are taken from the table by the time that Steve finishes, grin on his face and hands splayed out on the table in front of him. Silent for a moment, Sam and Tony share yet another look before Tony takes a long sip of his water and Sam leans back into his chair. They’ve already covered the ‘you’re adorable’ and the kissing sounds, so Steve has a feeling this next bit will be less joking, more serious.

“You hardly know the guy-” Tony starts, not unkindly and Steve doesn’t take offense, he knows Tony doesn’t mean it to be rude.

Sam slinks further into his seat and watches the two of them, Steve wants to ask what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t, instead he cuts across Tony, “That’s not-”

“Look teasing aside, you really like this guy don’t you?” Sam interrupts Steve. His question surprises Steve, not much, but a little bit.

He may have thought that they would get serious now, protective over him, he actually thought that he would have had a lot more teasing to sit through before they reached this part, before they got into an actual discussion. And honestly, he sort of wanted the teasing to ease him into it. But the teasing ended with his story and now, now it’s serious. He likes that the both of them are protective, sort of, but he’s big now, he can handle himself and his heart, and he wants to tell them that they don’t need to worry but he doesn’t want to waste his breath.

Steve considers himself for a moment, just a second, and then he nods, “Yes.”

Words quiet, not a whisper, not quite that low but almost, Steve smiles and shakes his head, curling his body in on itself just a little bit, a gesture that looks odd now with his larger body, but he manages to pull it off all the same as he says, “Look I hardly know him, I know, but I feel like I do.”

“Cause that makes sense.” Tony sighs, rolling his eyes as he waves at the waiter, needing more water, because this conversation is only getting started. And as much as Tony wants to skip out of this now, he knows that that isn’t on the cards, and he does care about Steve, does want to make sure he isn’t doing anything stupid, and he needs to give him the blunt truth where Sam might not want to. Not that Sam won’t, but Tony sort of likes being able to.

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I just-” Sam starts before he shakes his head, cutting himself off as he stares down at his hands. Steve is happy and smiling, and downright giddy and Sam wants to support him, and he does support him, but this is happening all so fast and he knows it happens like this sometimes, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry about Steve.

Everything is so uncertain, Bucky may like Steve in that way but he may not, he may never like him in that way, and Steve can handle that, he would prefer it not to be the case, but Sam knows he wouldn’t mind, not really, he would be okay, more than okay just being this guys’ friend. But Steve is falling hard and fast for this guy, and while Tony thinks this guy is one of the good ones, Sam doesn’t know Bucky, doesn’t know whether he is just another asshole who will end up beating up his friend.

“What?” Steve prompts.

“Doesn’t matter.” Sam answers, causing Tony to groan and Steve to sigh. It obviously does matter, it matters enough for Sam to start to say, and it obviously matters a lot if he cut himself off mid-sentence to avoid saying the rest of it.

He glances over at Tony, ignoring Steve’s look completely and then his phone starts to ring and vibrate against the table. Sam doesn’t sigh in relief, not exactly but he does jump out of his seat a little faster than strictly necessary and grabs his phone before slipping away with a quick, “I have to take this” before he’s even checked caller id.

Glaring after Sam and wishing that his phone would miraculously ring, Tony stares at his phone for a few seconds, silently trying to make it ring for him but the screen stays dark and it doesn’t make a peep. Steve is staring at him, and they sit in silence as the waiter brings a fresh jug of water and then Tony is staring at his lap and then he is looking over at Steve, trying his best to channel his inner Sam, as he starts, “Look he sounds, uh, bitching, but you’ve just met him and-”

“You’re worried I am getting too invested too fast?” This isn’t the first time he’s heard this speech. It’s the first it has been directed at him though.

Tony’s voice is soft, barely more than a whisper when he utters, “Again.”

Steve hadn’t even thought of it like that.

He may not have had this lecture directed at him before but he really really should have.

The only difference is, when he needed this lecture the first time no one was there to give it, which in a roundabout way is pretty much exactly why he needed the lecture even more. If he’d of had friends then none of that would have happened, none of it. It happened because he was desperate, lonely and no one, not a single person apart from his Ma cared about his existence, no one had his back, and no one talked to him if they could avoid doing so.

Tony and Sam had come later. Sam had heard this story one drunken night at some frat party that Tony had dragged the two of them to.

He hadn’t even realised he hadn’t spoken for a few minutes, that he had zoned out, until he realises that Sam is sitting across from him again and Tony has a coffee cup in one hand. Finally finding his voice, Steve starts, voice sounding a lot less resolute that he had intended, “Look it’s not like that.”

Sam gives Tony a silent glance but doesn’t say anything, although he does kick Tony under the table when he says, “It’s a little like that Steve.”

“He’s nothing like him!”

He isn’t meaning to be defensive, doesn’t mean to almost spit out the words, but he can’t help it. Can’t help the way he glares a little a Tony for the mere suggestion that Bucky is even a little bit like, like-

Steve shakes his head, he doesn’t want to think about him. It was years ago now. Well a few years. Well, not really all that long ago now if he really thinks about it, but he doesn’t, ever, pointedly. He doesn’t think about high school, not if he can help it. He doesn’t think about those four months, ever.

Stealing Tony’s cup of coffee, Sam takes a sip, his phone on the table in front of him. Steve would ask, would inquire about who was on the other end of the line, but he doesn’t, he is too focused,  not even on Tony or this conversation, but on the memory he has been trying to forget since it all ended.

Still silent, Sam takes another sip and Tony gives him a pointed look before he sighs, and turns to Steve. They both know that Sam will have a lot to say, but right now he doesn’t seem forth coming with any advice, so instead Tony speaks again, “You thought that he wasn’t nothing like that before you discovered that he was exactly like that. Sorry Steve but you aren’t exactly a great judge of character when your heart is involved.”

“My heart wasn’t involved, it wasn’t, we never even…” Steve trails off.

Tony knows exactly what happened, knows that they never actually did more than kiss that one time, but fuck they didn’t have to be dating or anything for him to royally screw him over. How Tony knows Steve isn’t really sure. He never told him, but somehow Tony already knew. He hadn’t even been there in the after, and he certainly wasn’t there when it was all happening, no one was. And that was what made it all the worse.

“Look I’m not saying that Bucky is going to turn out to be a total a-class shit and you’ll end up been subject to the worst weeks of your life, again, but I’m just saying-”

Tony is being as kind as Tony can be, his voice is not at all like it usually isn’t, words aren’t laced with a teasing edge, and he isn’t talking about something that Steve cannot understand, at a pace that he cannot follow. And that in itself is a little disconcerting, but the look on Tony’s face, he looks so sincere, and Steve is wondering whether this is a new leaf he is turning over thanks to Pepper, or if he’s been like this the whole time and the situation has never been dire enough to call for this level of sincerity, which is making Steve worry even more.

Trying not to be aware of his wet blue eyes, Steve wonders how he could fall so quickly from cloud nine. This really isn’t as concerning as they are making it out to be, but he can see their point. He isn’t willing to agree with them though, so he just mutters, “Be careful. Yeah I know.”

“Look I know Barnes, sort of, kind of, ish. He isn’t a douche but that doesn’t mean-”

Sam is still uncharacteristically silent, and with Tony being actually chatty, helpful chatty, this entire conversation has Steve completely thrown off. The giddy excitement drained out of him completely, replaced with a horrible feeling in his gut and an overwhelming desire to vomit.

“I know I know.” Steve sighs.

He does know.

Really he does. He knows he needs to be more cautious, but he also knows that he really doesn’t want to be. Not where Bucky is involved. He just hopes to god that when, not if, he falls, there will be somebody there to catch him. He’s caught himself before and he never wants to do that again.

Sam and Tony will catch him if need be, he knows that, but-

God, that isn’t what he wants. He feels like he’s falling, a plane dropping out of the sky, and he knows he can’t stop, it’s too late to pull back now, but he knows he needs to slow down, knows that he has to.

And he thinks about how he could possibly slow down all fucking night.

As 2am rolls by, he has finished the first half of his essay but he hasn’t got a damn clue on how the hell to stop himself from falling so bloody fast.

**…**

Awake the next morning, far too early he thinks, but awake all the same, Steve lies in bed for ten minutes which somehow becomes an hour, as he thinks about Bucky and he thinks about his conversation he had over his early dinner last night.

Tony and Sam are looking after him; he knows that, he knows that they care about him.

Why?

He hasn’t quite figured that one out yet.

But he does know that they have his best interests in heart. He knows they care about him, just like he cares about them. They want him to be happy, but they need him to be careful, not because they don’t want to pick up the broken pieces of Steve and put him back together like a puzzle, but because they don’t want to have to.

And Steve doesn’t want to give them a reason to. Doesn’t want to have to put back together after he’s torn apart. He doesn’t know Bucky, not really, but he feels like he does, and even though he doesn’t know Bucky’s favourite colour or what movie he watches when he’s sick, Steve knows without a shadow of a doubt that Bucky isn’t anything like Brock Rumlow, not at all, he is adamant about that, but that doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t be more careful.

Steve’s a hopeless romantic, he’ll admit that, isn’t ashamed to say it, never has been. He wears his heart on his sleeve, even though he knows that he really really shouldn’t. It’s better not to, less painful that way, but as he’s avoided relationships basically his entire life, not out of his own desire, well not at first at least, his heart on his sleeve hasn’t really cost him much. Well hasn’t cost him much yet that is.

It cost him with Brock though.

He was stupid. Stupid and fucking naïve, and he wanted to believe that someone actually cared. That someone actually wanted to talk to him because he was an interesting person, that he wasn’t just using him to get better grades, that he wasn’t using him to get exactly what he wanted.

He wasn’t in love with Brock.

Never was.

Didn’t love him, not exactly.

But he sort of was getting there, which meant the end of those four months was horrific, and not just because he had spent the week following the fallout in hospital with pneumonia, where not a single person but his Ma visited him.

But because when it was over, it was all so fucking clear.

When it ended, he couldn’t believe that he had ever been so stupid, he couldn’t believe that he had kidded himself for such a long time, couldn’t believe that for four months he had actually believed that he was good enough for anyone, let alone someone popular and attractive.

But it’s not the same with Bucky, he’s sure of that.

Steve’s attracted to Bucky in a different way than he was with Brock. In Brock he was looking for a friend at first, because he had no one, sure he was wary for the first week but that instantly vanished when he let himself believe that he was worth someone’s time, when he got carried away with the fact that someone said hello to him in the corridor at school.

Annoyed with his past self and his stupid heart, Steve finds himself pushing himself harder as he runs through the park, muscles burning as he runs faster and harder, trying to outrun his thoughts, trying to outrun the never ending loudness in his head, trying to outrun himself.

**…**

Suddenly, without Steve really intending it, it’s been five days since he’s seen Bucky. He’s not avoiding him, he just hasn’t seen him, which is sort of good, because for the past five days whenever he isn’t actually busy he has been trying to slow himself down.

 Bucky didn’t come in to work when it was Steve’s shift, but to be fair he’d swapped shifts with Mary since her brother was in town.  It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to see Bucky, it’s just that he had been too busy with assignments and helping Tony look for a bigger apartment and trying to calm Sam down after Maria had brought up that her parents were coming to visit in a few days and she would love for him to meet them.

Sam had said the same thing as Tony the night after they went out for dinner. They had been sitting on the couch eating pizza and watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy that Sam hadn’t even tried to defend, had simply told Steve to shut his mouth and had proceeded to praise ‘God’s gift that was Cristina Yang’ for the first half hour before he turned to Steve suddenly looking very serious as he said, “Just be careful.”

Steve had fought back the desire to sigh and had just nodded. They were looking out for him, and they were right. He needed to be careful, needed to not get wrapped up in this and not see the bigger picture. The only problem was the bigger picture was making things even harder to focus on being careful and not diving in head first.

He found himself wondering about all sorts of domesticated things, things that he instantly told himself to stop thinking about, but he couldn’t stop from grinning like an idiot for an hour at the thought of waking up beside Bucky every morning. Or having to yell at him for leaving toothpaste in the sink, or having Bucky holler from the living room asking if Steve remembers where on ‘god’s green earth his put his fucking keys’, something that he could very easily imagine Bucky doing.

He feels stupid, and a little bit pathetic at the small moments of imagined domesticated bliss that leave him smiling even when Sam has to reapply his bandages and scold Steve for not taking better care of them himself.

It’s been five days, and Steve hasn’t seen him but he does text Bucky.

Occasionally.

They only manage to get about a dozen texts in a day. Which is barely nothing, but with Steve buried in mountains of work and seemingly very prone to losing his phone or leaving it in his apartment when he goes out, he isn’t exactly surprised.

It seems odd almost. And less pressure.

Because Steve doesn’t have to reply instantly, doesn’t have to have Bucky looking at him when he reads what Bucky said, doesn’t have to feel like an idiot because he cannot think of a good reply immediately. But sometimes it doesn’t really help, not having to reply instantly just means that Steve gets stuck on what to say, and then after twenty minutes of attempting to think of something good, he ends up getting distracted and not replying for two hours.

Not having to reply instantly seems to work on Tuesday night when Steve’s phone lights up with a text message from Bucky. He finishes the paragraph his is working on and then another one, before curling fingers around his phone and wandering out of his room to the kitchen to make tea. And he almost drops his phone when he reads the message,

_missed you today, haven’t seen you in awhile_

**…**

It’s been over 15 hours now since Steve checked his text messages, almost 16 hours since Bucky actually sent the text, and Steve has not been able to think of any possible reply. He asked Tony of course, hadn’t expected much help, but he did expect a little more than Tony making kissy sounds into the phone until Pepper told him to cut it off and then he proceeded to laugh for about two minutes before Steve hung up on him.

He would have called Sam first, but Sam was meeting Maria’s parents, and Steve really did not want to add to his current level of stress. He had had a test only the day before and had spent most of last night freaking out over which shirt to wear, so Steve had tactfully not mentioned the text message before Sam left this morning.

Deciding to forgo any more attempts at thinking of a reply, for the next hour at least, Steve sends his finished essay to his professor before changing into his running gear and blasting his music, glad to be able to just get out of his head for an hour.

**…**

At this point he isn’t really even surprised.

He was on his way to meet Tony for coffee. Well that was what he had intended at least. He had left ten minutes earlier than he needed to, no reason really, just that he was ready and thought that heading out sooner rather than later would mean he wouldn’t end up getting distracted and somehow find himself arriving ten minutes late.

And now he is bleeding again, has a bandage pressed against his nose and is trying not to let Tony in on the fact that he is pretty sure he has a brand new bruise on his hip, that is already darkening and hurts like hell.

“You are a fucking idiot.” Tony mutters for about the third time. In the end Steve was only fifteen minutes late to meet up with Tony, but one look at Steve, Tony had dragged him back to Steve’s flat since it was closer and had boiled the kettle while Sam had tsked and had helped clean Steve up.

“I had to-” Steve starts, not for the first time.

Sam shakes his head, and shoves the corner of the flannel into Steve’s mouth to shut him up as he bandages up his knee. Scowling, Steve spits out the flannel as Sam answers, “I know I know, but that doesn’t mean you still aren’t an idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot I’m Captain America.” Steve all patched up and a little high on adrenaline, grins as he speaks, eyes bright and Sam takes a second to process what the idiot actually let slip as he grabs the flannel off the floor.

“Huh?” Tony pipes up from the kitchen, already half way through his cup of tea, no longer in the mood for caffeine, and knowing that Steve isn’t in need of any either. So he’s making tea, tea that Tony has never seen before, but Steve is currently obsessed with, something Berry? Not that Tony cares what it is, he just hopes it tastes good.

Steve seems to realise that he had actually said that out loud, and from the look on his face as Sam glances up at him, he knows that Steve is desperately trying to backtrack. “Shit.”

They give him a moment, a moment where he flushes red and tries to stand up but Tony plants a firm hand on his shoulder, he hasn’t fainted in a while but they want to get fluids in him before he’s vertical again. Lips moving but no sound coming out, Steve’s brain searches for the right words, for any words, to find something, anything to say, but he is too busy staring at his feet and blushing.

“Captain America?” Sam prompts as he slips back into the room again, hands clean and bloodied flannels and bandage edges taken care of.

“God that,” Tony starts, chuckling to himself before he pauses, eyes assessing Steve, “and you are now grinning like an idiot…” He trails off, and Steve is not liking that glint in his eyes.

Sometimes Tony is too smart for his own good, but this time it’s Sam who beats Tony to it, “Barnes?”

Steve shrugs, blush receding as he looks between their faces and takes the offered cup of tea from Sam, wraps his fingers around it and takes a long sip before he answers, “Maybe.”

“Have you seen him since-” Tony starts.

Sam already knows the answer, hence why he doesn’t ask. He knows that Steve is not avoiding Bucky, he’s busy, they are both busy it seems, but he does know that Bucky spent an hour in Shield yesterday, scribbling into his notebook and glancing up hopefully at the door every time it opened only to look away more disappointed each time. It didn’t take much for Sam to realise he was looking for Steve, and as much as he wanted to text Steve and tell about Bucky’s pining, he withheld. Steve needed to deal with his head first, before his heart carried him away and there was no looking back, and Sam could not see Steve broken, not if he could help it.

“No.”

Tony being Tony ignores the look that Sam gives him, and catches the tea towel that Sam throws at him before he inquires, “Why not?”

Steve growls in frustration when he goes to stand up and again Tony pushes him back into his seat. Finishing off his cup of tea, Steve rolls his eyes and argues, “I’ve been busy! You’ve heard of studying right?”

“You don’t know what to say do you?” Tony chuckles. Back turned to the both of them, Steve knows that Sam is smiling to himself as he puts on a pot of coffee. Unlike the two of them, Sam needs a caffeine fix.

“That is totally- okay yes I have no fucking clue what to tex-” Steve hangs his head he knows there is zero point in lying to them, he has no idea what to say, that is not the only reason for not seeing him, but it is one of them. He steals Tony’s cup and finishes the last mouthful of his tea and is too busy grinning at Tony’s pouting for stealing his cup; that he realises what Tony is reaching for a second too late. “What are doing?!”

He leans forward, trying to grab at his phone, but it’s too late, Tony has shifted out of his reach and Sam is watching him, giving him a look that says, ‘Try and get up I fucking dare you’, so Steve just collapses back against the cushions and gives Tony his best glare and hopes to god that Tony doesn’t do anything too damaging.

“Giving you a nudge.” Tony smirks, and that does not settle Steve’s nerves at all. Whatever hopes of not too damaging are long gone now, and he tries to get off the couch and over to Tony who is standing very far away from him now, a few bits of furniture acting as obstacles between them.

“Fuck what are-” Steve groans and then Tony is walking towards him, his grin wicked and his eyes far too bright, far too bright for anything nice, and then Tony is holding up the phone to Steve and his eyes are skimming the screen and Sam is chuckling and Tony is fucking giggling and then Steve is yelling, “DID YOU CALL HIM?”

“Yup. It’s ringing.” Tony grins, popping the ‘p’ as he hands the phone to Steve, drops it onto his outstretched palm and then he takes a few steps back, making sure to put the coffee table and the couch between them. Sam doesn’t mention that Steve really should be sitting down right now, and instead adds milk to his coffee and stirs in the sugar.

“I fucking hate you, you piece of absolute-” Steve is practically yelling, glaring straight at Tony who is still laughing, and then Steve drops the rest of his sentence completely because the ringing as stopped, and it’s not because he actually had the sense to hang up, but because-

“Hey Steve!”

Still glaring at Tony and thanking the universe that he heard Bucky pick up and had caught himself just in time before he continued yelling at Tony and ended up yelling at Bucky too, Steve tries to smile as he replies, “Hey!”

There’s a beat, and then Steve realises that he needs to say something more. Tony and Sam are staring at Steve, insistently telling him to say something, anything, something that isn’t this silence. And sure it isn’t a long silence, it’s only been about 7 seconds, but Steve is starting to panic and then Sam is kicking his foot under the table and Steve blurts out, “You doing anything this arvo?”

“No plans, why?”

To be fair Tony is trying his best not to laugh, is trying his best, and he isn’t actually laughing, he is just hunched in on himself with his back to Steve as he shakes with almost laughter, which only increases as Steve says dumbly, since _nothing else_ comes to mind, “Probably should change this bandage.”

On the other end of the line, Bucky chuckles, and the sound makes Steve’s lip curl into a smile. He is still sitting stiffly, back straight as a board and he is not even a little bit relaxed, but with Bucky’s breathe in his ear and the sounds of what sounds like a café in the background, Steve is starting to relax a little. “And your last slave died of what exactly?”

Steve smiles brighter this time, and falls back against the couch, ignoring the look Sam gives him as he scoffs, “Wow Buck so original, wherever did ya come up with that one??”

“Please tell me you’ve had it changed since last I saw you it’s been over a week.”

“Uh-” Steve starts, not quite sure what to say. He doesn’t want to say that he got into another fight, not that he’s ashamed of it, not even a little bit.

He doesn’t have to figure out what he should say though because Bucky sighs and then asks a question he already knows the answer to, “It’s a new one isn’t it?”

“Perhaps.”

Tony has left the room, is hiding in the kitchen, shoulders shaking as he boils the kettle again, trying to drown out the sounds of himself laughing. Plus he won’t admit it, but he really wants to steal more of Steve’s tea. Sam is still sitting across from Steve, but he isn’t openly staring at Steve anymore, but is trying to look absorbed in a magazine Tony had left on the table for him to read.

Bucky sounds faintly amused when he asks, “Why am I not even remotely surprised?”

Steve tries to ignore how he seems to have actual butterflies in his stomach right now, which despite what one might think is not actually an entirely comforting experience, because while he is nervously excited, he also thinks he might actually throw up. And that feeling only increases when he manages to say, without forethought or filtering, “Well you did say to flick you a text when I had ‘em on the ropes, and while I was a little preoccupied at the time I thought I’d make it up to you with a phone call now that I’m all patched up.”

He knows it’s not just the words, it’s his tone, but he doesn’t expect the reaction he gets. Sam doesn’t even try to hide his laughter, he cracks up and actually slides off the couch, and Steve glares at him and then glares at Tony who is losing it in the kitchen and then there is no doubt that Bucky cannot hear the two of them, and Steve opens his mouth to say something, and then Bucky is chuckling into his ear and then that chuckle turns into actual laughter and Steve is glaring at Sam and Tony and his cell phone and wondering why he even bothers talking.

Sam is drying his tears and Tony is gripping onto the kitchen bench so he doesn’t fall over from laughing so much, and Bucky is still laughing, the sound bright and merry and is making Steve smile but also want to hit himself in the face with Sam’s textbook because he can’t believe that he ever- But he doesn’t finish that thought because before he can, Bucky says between breathless laughs, “So, where do ya wanna meet?”

…

In the end Bucky doesn’t end up changing Steve’s bandage. But Steve and him end up having dinner at a diner near Steve’s apartment. It isn’t a date, no matter how much Tony and Sam teased him while he got dressed. He isn’t wearing anything fancy, just got out of his blood stained jeans and put on a slightly less tight, less worn pair of dark blue jeans and ignored Tony’s laughing when Steve changed his shirt three times before Sam yelled out the time and Steve had hurried off to dinner.

Date or not it was sort of perfect.

Perfect in pretty much every sense of the word in Steve’s opinion.

They’d talked about everything and nothing at all. They’d spoken about their futures, their lives, their friends and everything in between. Bucky swore almost as much as Steve, and the couple beside them glared over at them whenever they weren’t actually sucking each others faces. Steve almost pointed out their hypocrisy to them, he didn’t think that their occasional swearing compared to the making out they and the rest of the diner had to endure, but decided against it when Bucky started swearing slightly louder and more often, just to piss the two of them off, so Steve just joined in.

Steve was still nervous, but in the same way he was relaxed. Just like he was on Bucky’s couch, or in his kitchen making breakfast and falling into a rhythm with Bucky, something that try as he might he couldn’t stop thinking about. It didn’t help that when their food arrived, Bucky took one look at Steve’s expression, glaring down at the tomatoes on his plate, already planning on edging them to the corner of his plate with his fork, when Bucky had stolen them off his plate with a smirk.

It was easy, all of it.

The conversation, the humour, Steve was relaxed and laughing and smiling, and swearing whenever the couple beside them came up for air. And by the time their desserts came out, Steve was sort of starting to forget that he wasn’t nervous in the first place. He knows it’s not a date, far from it, it’s just a dinner between friends, but god, he wishes it wasn’t.

“Hey! Eat your own.” Bucky blocks Steve’s spoon with his, as he glares at him.

Not that he’d tell Steve, but for the last two minutes he had been contemplating stealing a forkful of Steve’s cake, but that didn’t mean he was going to give up any of his dessert without a fight.

Steve counters, “You ate my tomatoes!”

“Like you were gonna eat them? You fucking hate them. I don’t see why they are-”

Steve scrunches up his face at the memory of the tomatoes on his plate. “Disgusting. Absolutely fucking disgusting.”

Bucky chuckles and Steve sees his moment and he strikes, managing to just get a little bit of mousse on his spoon before he has to start a hasty retreat. “You just have zero appreciate for them.”

Bucky lets Steve have the small amount of mousse he managed to steal, but continues to glare at him, there’s no heat behind it at all, and Bucky is already wondering when the best time to steal some of Steve’s delicious looking cheesecake would be.

Steve gives him a toothy smile before he licks every last morsel of mousse off of his spoon, that was already clean, but he wasn’t going to admit it, not when he succeeded in having Bucky staring at his mouth for far longer than necessary. Spoon heading towards Bucky’s mousse again, he smirks when Bucky blocks his spoon, “I do have completely appreciation for this chocolate mousse though.”

“ _My_ chocolate mousse.”

Steve just grins, “Sharing is caring.”

Bucky sighs, and this time when Steve’s spoon gets dangerously close to what’s left of his mousse he doesn’t defend his bowl. He lets Steve take a spoonful, which he makes a show of eating, moaning around the spoon a little too loudly he must admit, but he’s been an asshole so he’s not blushing. Not even when Bucky raises his eyebrow at him, Steve just moans louder and Bucky rolls his eyes before he sighs in defeat, “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

**…**

“So…” Tony starts one afternoon as he leans across the counter. Fury is nowhere to be seen and the place is essentially empty and Steve’s shift still has an hour to go and he is bored out of his mind, so he has been enjoying the distraction of Tony telling wild stories for the last quarter of an hour, but Tony has stopped smiling and is now smirking, and Steve isn’t sure where this is going but he knows that he probably won’t like it.

Tony doesn’t expand on that for a few minutes, he shifts over when a customer comes in and he leans his head against the counter that Steve had wiped down a few minutes ago. Three coffees and a delicious looking piece of caramel slice later, Steve is starting to think he knows what Tony is on about.

“I said no already.”

Tony seems genuinely surprised by this, his reaction catching Steve off guard, “To what?”

“To your party this weekend, I’ve got-” Steve starts.

He has had enough of Tony’s parties. He’s managed to avoid the last three at least, two coincided with work shifts and one was the night before a test. He still doesn’t like him even though now he feels better about going to them. It’s sort of stupid, but with Bucky, even just his friend, it changes things, he feels more confident in some ways. He got far more confident after befriending Sam and then Tony, so he isn’t really surprised that being friends with Bucky makes him happier and therefore less anxious about Tony’s parties.

He hasn’t gone to one of Tony’s parties since Tony told him Bucky’s name, but he doesn’t dread the inevitably of going to one of Tony’s parties sometime in the future. Nothing is different, not really, but he sort of feels different. But that doesn’t mean he is actually looking forward to going to one of Tony’s parties either, not when he knows he’ll be hit on by a bunch of people because of how he looks in a tight navy shirt, and not one of those people will be Bucky.

Quick witted as always, Tony quickly gets on board with what Steve thinks he is talking about, and finishes Steve sentence for him, “A date with the most gorgeous man you’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“No, an essay to finish.” Steve thinks it’s a testament to the amount teasing Tony has put him through over the last few days that he doesn’t sigh or even roll his eyes, just keeps stacking the cups.

Not taking Steve’s hint to turn the conversation to something else, Tony grins in triumph. “So you guys are dating then?”

It’s been a long day and Steve really isn’t in much of a mood to put up with Tony’s antics, but to be fair, this teasing he doesn’t mind, well not at the present moment. Most of the time it pisses him off, and he knows that it will bug him soon, but he still doesn’t take the bait.

“What?”

“You didn’t argue the date, so I just assumed that-” Tony’s smirk is barely concealed, and the glimmer in his eyes he doesn’t even try to hide. Steve is already beginning to rethink his standing on how Tony’s teasing isn’t pissing him off.

 “What? I said no.”

Tony doesn’t answer, instead he steps to the side and lets Steve serve a customer, lets the customer pay and the head over to a table, before he slides towards Steve again, grin on his lips as he teases, “No, you said you weren’t coming to my party because of your boy Barnes.”

“I am not dating him.” Steve says, not looking up from where he currently is crouching behind the counter, trying to remember where he last saw the fresh roll of receipt paper.

“Uh huh.” Tony clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. Steve doesn’t have to look up to know that Tony opens his mouth before shutting it. He pauses for a moment, before he asks, “But he is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever laid eyes on?”

“Yes.” Steve confesses, still rooting through the shelves trying to find it. He knows that if he lies and says no, Tony won’t let it go, and they both know that Steve thinks Bucky is gorgeous. It sounds cheesy, he’ll admit to that wholeheartedly, but he rather does think that Bucky is gorgeous outside and more importantly, inside.

Not satisfied with that answer, Tony prompts, “Yes what?”

“What do you mean yes what?” There is something in Tony’s tone that Steve is missing, he can hear it but he can’t quite work out what it is, can’t quite figure it out. But as he turns away from Tony, and stands up, scanning the shelves behind him for inspiration, he doesn’t give Tony’s tone much thought.

There’s a hitch in Tony’s voice, one that gives away he is about to laugh, but Steve finds the receipt paper and grins in triumph so he misses it completely when Tony says, “Say it Rogers.”

“Yes Tony he is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Happy?” Steve answers, voice far louder than intended, and he practically declares it to anyone sitting within a few metres of the counter. Tony bites back a chuckle, and Steve turns to face him grin dropping straight off his face and he skips a breath.

“Who is?” Bucky asks, standing behind the counter in front of Steve now, and Steve is caught between blushing and wanting to punch one Tony Stark in the face because he may not be smiling but that glint in his eyes is telling Steve that he saw him come in.

He flails for a moment, wills Tony to step in and help him, but Tony just stands there, and shrugs when Bucky looks at him and then grins at Steve when Bucky turns his focus to the blonde. Biting on his cheek and hoping that he isn’t blushing too noticeably, Steve shrugs and busies himself as he talks, making shit up as he goes and hoping to a God his mother once prayed to, that Bucky will accept whatever lie he comes up with. “Who fucking knows Buck, Tony’s got some man crush on some guy at the gym, named Thor, which I highly doubt is this guys legal name but-”

“Seriously?”

Extremely thankful that Bucky cut him off midstream and also wanting to kill Tony for a. putting him in this situation and b. being entirely useless and unhelpful with the current fallout, Steve chuckles, “That’s what I was saying, Thor? Who names a kid Thor?”

“No I meant Tony’s crushing on Thor.” Bucky answers, his lips twitching the corners, but no smile on his face. He looks amused, but there is something else, something clouding his expression that Steve is failing to identify.

“You know Thor?” Tony manages to get out, knowing him teasing Steve has already turned around on him. Last thing he needs is for Pepper to think he likes her best friends almost boyfriend.

Taking in Tony’s anxious expression, Bucky misses the look on Steve’s face as his focus zeros in on Tony who is about to start stammering, especially when Bucky smirks. “Yeah, I can introduce you two lovebirds if you haven’t actually talked to him yet.”

“No I,” Tony starts, glaring at Steve now, who simply smirks back at him.

Bucky chuckles and exchanges a look with Steve before he leans closer to Tony, rests a hand on his shoulder and whispers loud enough for Steve to hear, “Won’t tell Peps, I promise.”

“I am not ‘crushing’ on Thor or anyone for tha-”

“’Cept for Pepper Potts.” Bucky cuts him off, leaning against the counter now, arms crossed as he looks Tony up and down, seemingly unaware of Steve’s still shaking hands as he dries a completely dry mug with a tea towel.

“You told him?” Tony is staring at Steve now, with a look of utter betrayal. He kept his mouth shut about Steve’s mad crush on one James Buchanan Barnes, and Tony had hoped that Steve would return the favour. Sure telling Barnes didn’t matter that much, but it was the principle really.

Bucky just chuckles and shakes his head, “No but you just did. God, Tony, keep it in your pants.”

“Did you come here for a reason or just to make me turn a darker shade of red than Steve frequents whenever y-” The rest of Tony’s sentence falls away as Steve glares at him over the counter and ‘accidentally’ knocks his elbow a little harder than strictly necessary with a cup.

Bucky raises his eyebrow and waits a few seconds for Tony to continue, and when he doesn’t Bucky smiles before turning his gaze to Steve, “Apparently Clint will die if he goes without coffee for a second longer and Nat wants some passion fruit muffin or slice thing-”

“Same as yesterday then?”

Bucky nods and smiles at Steve, making him a little weak in the knees and preparing himself for Tony’s teasing that is bound to come later, but for that smile, it was totally fucking worth it. “Yes, whatever Nat ordered for us yesterday is what we want today.”

Bucky seems to think about something for a minute, scanning the board in silence as he pays and Steve starts on Bucky’s order. Tony stands there silently, a minor miracle, but spends his quiet time waggling his eyebrows at Steve suggestively whenever he thinks Bucky can’t see him. Nat’s food packaged and Clint’s coffee made, Bucky is still staring at the board, before he sighs, giving up his search and just asks Steve, “What did she get me by the way?”

“Surprise me.”

“Helpful.” Bucky groans. A part of him did not expect a more helpful answer, Steve’s a little shit when he wants to be, and in all honesty Bucky sort of saw that coming.

Steve chuckles, his back to Bucky as he searches for a lid. Tony’s phone chirps before he answers, “No she asked me to surprise her, did you like it?”

“It was fucking magical.”

Bucky grins and Steve blatantly ignores the faces that Tony is pulling behind Bucky’s back and just focuses on making Bucky’s drink and smiling back while his legs are threatening to give out from underneath him. Focused on actually making Bucky’s drink, he forgets Bucky’s question, but with those blue eyes fixed on him for more moments than strictly necessary who can blame him.

He doesn’t need to hear the two of them to know that Tony and Bucky are teasing one another, and Steve just hopes that Tony shuts his mouth where all things Steve is totally in love with one Bucky Barnes is concerned.

Drinks made and everything handed over, Bucky smiles gratefully and Tony waggles his eyebrows at Steve behind Bucky’s back. “Thanks Rogers.”

“Before you start, don’t.” Steve warns Tony, knowing that he will be an asshole for at least the next ten minutes. He knows that Tony is waiting for him to finish his shift so they can go out and get something to eat, because he’s been holed up in his flat for the past two days doing nothing but work and although it was Sam who coaxed him out, he’s busy, so Steve gets to socialise with him instead. Not that he minds, teasing aside.

The door is almost shut when Bucky’s head pokes back through the gap and he yells over to Steve, “Someday you gotta tell me what’s in this.” Steve opens his mouth to yell something back, but then Bucky takes a sip and moans around it before grinning at Steve and slipping out the door.

Tony just smirks and Steve leans against the counter, hits Tony softly and ignores the look he gets in reply as he watches Bucky through the front windows until he disappears. “Not a word.”

**…**

He thinks about Bucky a little too much.

He is totally willing to admit that. But now it makes sense. He sees Bucky everyday, he texts Bucky at least a dozen times a day, he gets snapchats of Bucky’s face pulling a variety of different expressions that has Steve in fits of laughter and returning equally hilarious and hideous snapchats in return.

So it’s natural for him to assume that when he spots a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eyes, that he will soon be seeing Natasha and Bucky, which embarrassing as it may be makes his heart beat quicken just a little. He’s only got ten minutes left of his shift and he wonders whether his essay can wait for another hour or-

“Hey Steve.” Natasha grins, stepping in front of the counter and breaking off Steve’s train of thought as he looks up from his notebook to discover the red head looking gorgeous as usual but completely alone.

Steve smiles back, glad to see her, even alone, “Natasha.”

“God, I told you already, call me Nat.” She pulls a face, scrunches up her nose and shakes her head. She doesn’t hate her name, not exactly, but, well, she prefers being called Nat by people she likes, and he has a Bucky stamped seal of approval and he’s a sarcastic shit who makes Nat smile, so he can call her Nat. Steve opens his mouth to say something in reply, but she cuts him off, “Don’t look so sad.”

“What I-”

Red splotches of a blush creep up his neck and he tries desperately not to stammer, and he only succeeds in doing so as Nat cuts him off with an all too knowing look in her eyes, “I know you were wanting someone with slightly browner hair and-”

“What can I get you?” Determined to remain unshaken, well as much as he can manage, he tries to be professional, tries to get the focus back on work, especially now that a blonde man is sauntering towards the counter.

“Same as usual for me, and the drink that you gave Bucky two days ago that he hasn’t shut up about.” Nat doesn’t exactly smile, but there is a glint in her eyes and a slight curl in the corner of her lips and Steve knows that she can probably see right through him.

But she doesn’t say anything, so neither does he. He’s met her a few times now, knows that she loves Bucky but not in the way he had originally presumed, knows that she would kill for him and that Bucky would return the favour without a blink of his eye. They’re close, best friends, siblings almost, and from the little time Steve has spent with Nat he has come to like her, not like he likes Bucky, but how he likes Sam.

“Thanks.” Nat says, lips not quite a smile, but almost. She turns and walks out and Steve could have sworn she muttered, “Cap” on her way out. She doesn’t look back, and Steve is distracted by another customer, left to ponder whether she said anything else or not another time.

**…**

Steve pulls Sam out of bed just after 5am a few mornings later, and is pleasantly surprised to discover that the rain that he’d fallen asleep to was nowhere to be seen. Not he minds running in the rain, he actually likes running in the rain at the end, but he hates the slippery concrete and the people with umbrellas who do not look where they are going.

Without so much as a drop of coffee, the two of them get changed and head out, Steve leaving Sam in his dust for the first forty minutes just like he normally does. Lost in his head, not even needing music this morning, Steve considers lapping Sam a third time but decides to simply slow down as he says, “On your left.”

Sam groans, just like he always does, and just like he’s already done twice this morning, and moves to whack Steve’s arm but Steve doesn’t run past him, instead he keeps Sam’s pace, and just smiles when Sam gives him a questioning look.

Silent for a few minutes, Sam pulls out a headphone and asks, “Slumming it with me then?”

“Thought I’d ‘run’ with you for a bit in case you sprain your hip grandpa, grounds still awful slippery.” Steve does air quotes as he says ‘run’ since he’s a little shit like that, and grins at Sam while he talks, running literal circles around Sam now.

“You’re older than me.” Sam points out, wondering if it is still illegal to murder your best friend even if he’s being an asshole.

Glaring at Steve, Sam keeps running, lips not even curling into a smile as Steve throws his head back and laughs, still running circles around Sam.  “Your ‘running’ tells a different story.” Steve smirks.

Groaning, Sam reaches out and hits Steve, who stops running circles around him and just runs in front of Sam, running backwards and grinning as Sam rolls his eyes.

“Would you _please_ stop using air quotes whenever you say run? You don’t run, I run, you fucking sprint. I mean seriously dude where’s the fire? The escaped lion about to eat you? There is no reason for you to be moving at that-”

“Yeah okay, you ‘run’.”  Steve smiles sweetly and barely dodges Sam’s punch that just misses his shoulder.

Hands thrown up in defeat, Sam stops at the water fountain and glares up as Steve as he drinks. “I hate you.”

“You love me.” Steve coos, blowing a kiss at Sam before he runs off ahead of him, ignoring Sam’s muttering about how he hopes he slips on the wet concrete and breaks a leg.

**…**

Much to Sam’s displeasure, it does rain on them before their run is over, but by the time Steve is about to head off to his morning lecture, the rain has stopped. His departure however is delayed by Sam demanding he takes out the trash. Happy to do it but wondering why Sam is suddenly so passionate about it, Steve quickly discovers why when Sam ‘accidentally’ locks Steve out of the apartment.

“This is for calling you grandpa isn’t it?” Steve asks, knowing full well that it was for him being an absolute shit not only during their run, but also on their way back to the apartment. Honestly he’s surprised Sam didn’t ‘accidentally’ spill the coffee Steve made while Sam was in the shower, on Steve’s pants. Phone inside on the table, Steve leans against the doorframe, and tries to figure where to go to lunch with Tony today and lists the groceries he needs to pick up later on.

Five minutes later, Steve hears footsteps approaching the door. “Sorry couldn’t hear your knocking.” Sam says when he finally opens the door, not sounding sorry at all. Sam smiles at him, not even trying to look apologetic and takes another sip of his coffee as he heads back towards the couch.

Steve just smiles, glad to see that Sam’s chirped up, before he grabs his bag and heads towards the door. “Love you too.” Steve calls as he pulls the door shut behind him.

**…**

Lunch turned into an hour of calming Tony’s nerves down with a side of food. In all honesty Steve wasn’t really all that surprised, he knew Tony had a date with Pepper this afternoon, and he knew that Sam had looked a little relieved when he told the two of them yesterday that he couldn’t make it cause he had a lecture.

Strangely, Steve knew exactly what to say to talk Tony down, but all that he said he ignored for himself. He knows he should have listened to the advice he gave Tony, he knows that Tony isn’t the only one of the two of them that has anxiety issues. He’d had no problem assuring Tony that feeling not good enough for Pepper was total bullshit and had only left when he was satisfied that Tony was at least sort of believing what he told him, even if it meant Steve had to run back to the campus in an attempt not to be late for his lecture.

His phone vibrates in his back pocket as he heads down the millionth staircase he’s been on today. He already knows that it’s Tony, and he checks it without stopping, wanting to make sure he doesn’t need to call Tony and make sure he isn’t freaking out again.

_You should take your own advice sometime Cap._

Steve rolls his eyes, and knows that Tony is smirking wherever he is. If he’s good enough to casually tease Steve about the nickname Bucky gave him, then he is absolutely fine. Feet still taking him down the staircase, Steve texts back,

_Why? So you don’t have to give me any?_

His phone vibrates in his hand as he reaches the bottom of the staircase. He still has two minutes before his lecture starts so he doesn’t rush heading down the corridor as he unlocks his phone. Steve’s snort is practically audible and probably totally predicted by Tony, as he reads his new text,

_Fuck you, I can be sappy anytime ya need._

Not missing a beat Steve sends back,

_Pepper will be glad to hear that I’m sure._

Steve doesn’t wait for a reply and sends another text,

_Have fun, lemme know how it goes._

Turning his phone on silent, he almost ignores the new text from Tony as he goes to slip his phone into his back pocket, but the exclamation points catch his eye and he opens the message,

_Same to you!!!_

Exclamation points cannot mean something good, so Steve hurriedly asks,

_What?_

Thirty seconds pass and no new text arrives. He hesitates for a moment a few steps away from the door where his class mates are currently filing into the lecture hall through. Waiting impatiently for his next text, Steve takes a swig of his water and almost chokes when the new text comes through,

_Check your sent messages_

Not wasting a second to actually check his messages, fighting the urge to call Tony and demand an answer instead, Steve sends a reply,

_What did you do?_

He waits, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, Steve glances up and peeks into the lecture hall, it’s only half full and it seems like his lecturers running late. His screen dims and is about to go dark when it lights up with another text,

_You’ll thank me tomorrow_

Is all Tony sends in reply.

Hovering outside his lecture hall, Steve doesn’t have to check more than one message stream to find the offending text. Of course Tony had text Bucky, why wouldn’t he? Making a mental reminder to never leave his phone on its own around Tony ever again, Steve locks his phone and shoves it into his pocket, wondering if or more so hoping that Bucky will say yes to Steve’s or well Tony’s proposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd so mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> Feel free to come visit me on [ tumblr ](http://alwayswithatoneofsurprise.tumblr.com/) to chat about all things stucky or just say hello :)


	6. The Howling Commandos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red liquorice , early mornings, a game of darts and an unexpected surprise.

Halfway through his lecture, Steve gets a text.

He knows because his screen lights up.

He knows that because he’d been glancing over at it every few seconds for the last twenty minutes. Luckily the universe seems to be willing to spare Steve a groan of frustration, and the text is from Bucky, a two worded reply that makes Steve grin,

_Fuck yes._

Tony’s proposition had been simple, movie night. Despite Tony being a bit of an asshole most of the time, he is not an actual asshole, and did not do any irreparable damage, he just gave Steve a little nudge. A nudge that Steve must admit is appreciated, something he will admit only to himself, not to Tony, lord no, never to Tony.

Still sort of listening to his lecturer harp on about how this is not an assignment that they can start the night before and receive a passing grade, Steve texts back,

_Yours or mine?_

The guy next to him who has been slumping further and further down his chair for the last ten minutes, drops his head on the arm of the boy on the other side and falls asleep. A few rows in front of them, the lecturer glances at the clock, obviously wanting this to end as much as they do.

The slide changes and Steve hurriedly types down the notes, nudges the guy next to him before the lecturer decapitates him, and ignores Bucky’s reply for a few minutes.

When the lecturer pauses to answer a question, Steve checks his phone,

_Nat’s out, so mine?_

Steve is very pretty sure that Tony knew that Nat was out, how, he has no idea, but he stopped questioning the breadth of Tony’s knowledge long ago. He’s just come to accept that Tony knows all sorts of things while still managing to have massive gaping holes in his knowledge at the same time.

By the time his lecture ends, his entire evening is planned, and he has been ordered to bring ‘movie food’, which Steve assumes basically means food with absolutely no actual food quality. So he settles on getting Doritos and liquorice, lots of red liquorice because he knows Bucky will whine about not having it if he doesn’t.

**…**

To absolutely no surprise of Steve’s, Bucky loses his shit over the liquorice, a small smile ghosting over his lips when Steve mentions how he remembered that Bucky loved it. Steve has no idea what Tony had in mind for this evening, but Tony isn’t here, and he can’t tell Steve to admit his feelings to Bucky, so instead of doing what everyone has been telling him to do for a while now, Steve simply shuts his mouth and ignores the way his stomach flutters when Bucky grins at him.

“You pick.” Bucky says, his back to Steve as he waves towards the bookshelf.

By the time the tea is made, cause Steve is a little addicted now, and the snacks are dropped on the coffee table, Steve has decided that they are going to watch the Dark Knight trilogy, a decision that Bucky is supports with a little grin.

They don’t even make it to Bruce’s parents being shot in the alleyway before Bucky is tearing open the first packet of liquorice and offering one to Steve will a small smile before grabbing a handful for himself. His body leaning against Steve’s, he sighs in frustration when Steve ‘confiscates’ the liquorice when Bucky leans to grab the second bag before Bruce has finished his training.

Bucky moves to grab the bag but Steve just holds it teasingly just out of reach, “You’re mean.”

“You’ll thank me later.” Steve says, smiling sweetly as he shifts the liquorice further out of Bucky’s reach.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.” Bucky huffs, eyes on the screen for a moment before they flicker longingly to the bag of liquorice on the other side of the couch, held just out of reach and defended by Steve.

Steve follows his gaze and shakes his head, before he leans towards Bucky, lips hovering inches from Bucky’s ear, Bucky who tenses a little at the sudden closeness. Steve whispers, “In case you’re wondering, yes I could take you.”

Bucky instantly relaxes, chuckles and rolls his eyes before turning his attention back to the movie, but shifting a little closer to Steve, which makes the movie very hard to pay full attention to.

**…**

“Do you run?” Steve pretty much blurts out about halfway through watching the Dark Knight a few hours later. Batman is standing in ruins, cape billowing behind him, coin in hand, and all Steve is able to think about is how much of idiot he is, and wishing that he had better control of his mouth.

In a way Bucky prompted him. Steve had been sitting silently for the last quarter of an hour at least playing with the words in his head, wondering how to bring the subject up, or if he even should. And then Bucky had glanced over at him, just for a fleeting second, and suddenly Steve’s brain sort of stopped working and without his permission his lips parted and he actually spoke the question aloud.

“Not that you look like you don’t run, or that you do run, I mean I was just,” Steve clears his throat, and stops stammering for a few seconds. Bucky’s curious expression is gone and he just looks faintly amused. Cheeks burning Steve has gone too far to turn back now, so he continues to push through, “I run in the mornings, when I can, and I, uh-”

Bucky being kind and evidently thinking that Steve has suffered enough, is nice enough to cut off his soon to be rambling with a question, “What time?”

Grateful for the interruption, Steve smiles, and then blushes a little more as he averts his gaze, staring back down at his hands and he fights to remember how to speak for a few seconds, “Tomorrow, about 5.”

“Jesus Stevie that’s the butt crack of fucking dawn.” Bucky chuckles, smiling that smile that Steve fucking loves and that paired with the nickname is not helping Steve remember how to maintain full control over his mouth.

It’s stupid really, they’ve been hanging out for hours already today, and he hasn’t stammered or blushed, he was fine, but now, not so much. Bucky’s a friend, and Steve is okay with that, but his heart does tend to forget that vital piece of information sometimes, and for fleeting moments when Bucky smiles at him like that, he forgets that they could never work, because despite how Steve may look now, he’s still that same kid, not good enough for anyone, let alone someone like Bucky. 

“Well I have an 8 o’clock lecture and I-” Steve starts, voice a little too fast as he’s realised that he was quiet for a little too long.

“And sleeping in is for the weak?” The movie is still playing, but neither of them are paying much attention anymore, Steve has seen it at least a dozen times, and he knows for a fact Bucky has seen it a bit too, if the way he quoted the first three scenes, before Steve hit him and told him to shut his mouth, was anything to go by.

“I’m going to regret this so much at 4.30 when my bed is warm and the world is cold, but where do you wanna meet?”

Even though it was sort of his intention when he’d asked, he never thought that he would get this far, wouldn’t think that Bucky would agree to go running with him at 5 fucking am in the morning as Bucky will probably be reminding him in less than 12 hours time.

**…**

“Long time no see Captain.” Sam says as Steve drops onto the edge of Sam’s bed, before shuffling backwards and leaning against the wall, legs hanging over the end of the bed.

That’s a straight up lie and they both know it. They had spent an hour and a half in Tony’s workshop yesterday eating Thai food for lunch and listening to his rambling which turned into teasing about Steeb and Binky, the two idiots who couldn’t simply admit their feelings to each other. Whenever Steve had tried to protest, Tony had tsked and said that Steeb and Binky were characters for his children’s book that he was writing, and not real people. Steve had stolen the rest of Tony’s pad thai in retaliation and had glared at him whenever he brought up what a moron Steeb was.

Steve looks over to Sam who has his legs bent, book resting on his thighs and back against the wall. He closes his book and drops it on the bedside table and takes a sip of his water before Steve replies, “I thought you’d have forgotten that by now.”

Sam smirks, “Never Rogers.”

“Did ya get your marks back?” Steve asks, eyes falling shut as he lets his head touch the wall. He really should head to bed, but he can’t, not with all the energy in his veins, not when he misses talking to Sam. Between study and classes and work and Bucky, Steve still doesn’t know how Sam’s last date with Maria went.

“Aced it.”

Eyes flutter open as Steve grins at Sam, who smiles back. “No surprises there.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, Steve’s face titled to the ceiling as he counts the cracks in the paint and Sam quickly checking his emails before switching his phone on silent and turning off his reading lamp. Steve shuffles a little further down the bed so Sam can lie down, legs tucked up but not uncomfortably so.

Even in the darkness, Steve can feel Sam’s eyes on him, and he waits a few moments, ready for a question, just unsure what the question will entail, already knowing it will inevitably be about Bucky Barnes. “Why are you grinning like an idiot but have also succeeded in sweating through the back of your shirt?”

Steve is many things, but right in that moment, he is never wrong. The question was of course Bucky related, anything that had him nervous and giddy at the same time was bound to be either his future, or well Bucky, which kind of counted in both is some ways, well whenever he was thinking hopefully. “Bucky and I are going running tomorrow.”

Sam lets out a snort of laughter, before he notices the look of Steve’s face and he rearranges his expression immediately before he manages to get out, “Seriously? But that dude hates daybreak.”

**…**

Bright and early at 5.02am, Bucky is wondering what on God’s green earth prompted him to not only be conscious at this ungodly hour but also out of bed, out of his apartment and standing on the pavement in running gear, freezing his ass off and unsure whether the blonde is actually going to show up.

And of course at 5.04am Steve comes jogging towards him and almost walks into a pole when he sees Bucky leaning against a tree, in running gear, (fuck skinny jeans, Steve has a new level of appreciation for fucking track pants and shirts that are like two sizes too small, not that he can judge, his shirt would rip with one wrong move, but Sam had insisted it was good shirt to run with Bucky in) and talking to a petite brunette who Steve knows for sure is not his sister.

The brunette nods towards Steve, Steve who is standing still, feet planted on the ground about 10 steps away from Bucky, wondering why on earth that he thought it would be a good idea to invite him out running and how on earth he could still look devastatingly attractive and  exhausted at the same time.

Bucky looks over his shoulder at Steve, a fleeting grin touch his lips as he waves, “Steve!” Sounding surprisingly cheery for 5am. “Steve Rogers this is Jane Foster, she is a freaking genius but also a total idiot, I mean why else would she be _finishing_ her run at 5 fucking am in the morning.” Bucky is smiling between the two of them now, still leaning against the tree as Steve heads towards them.

“It’s nice to meet you Steve.” Jane says as she shakes Steve’s outstretched hand. He knows who she is, sort of, but Steve’s never actually met her before, and while he couldn’t help the initial spark of jealously upon seeing the pair, the spark is gone now. “Finally.” She adds under her breath, but Steve is sure he must have imagined that part.

Bucky and Jane seem to have a silent conversation, which Steve is too slow to follow, but he doesn’t miss when Bucky dodges Jane’s elbow that was aimed for his side, or when Bucky trips Jane up and then catches her before she hits the ground, and she retaliates with a raised eyebrow that forces him to raise his arms up in defeat. Smiling, Jane doesn’t ignore the look that Steve is giving them, a little jealous of the easy intimacy between the two of them, and instead she gives Steve a considering look. “You kids have fun. See you tomorrow James?”

“Yeah, don’t be late.” Bucky grins, getting a sigh and a middle finger pulled at him in return which only makes him chuckle as he watches Jane’s retreating back for a few seconds before turning to Steve. “So, running?”

“Where do-”

Bucky bumps his shoulder into Steve’s, cutting his question short as he takes a step away from Steve and beckoning towards the path, “Lead the way Cap.”

“But I-” Steve starts, his whole speech that he’d prepared, god knows why, falling to pieces around him. He wanted to ask Bucky whether he preferred to jog or run, whether he wanted to run on the footpath or over grass, or if he wanted to run where no one really was or if he didn’t mind being surrounded by people. Steve didn’t have a speech planned as such, more a bunch of questions followed by some decision to where the two of them could go. But Bucky didn’t seem to be having a bar of it.

Bucky sighs and shoves Steve playfully “And don’t you dare take it easy on me or I will trip you over and-”

“Yes boss.” Steve promises, already knowing that he probably will go against his word. If not today, sometime soon, he just won’t be able to help himself. Steve starts off at a jog, looking over his shoulder to check if Bucky is following him, he finds Bucky on his left, smiling at him as he fights back a yawn.

They are silent for a few metres, and then Steve is turning to Bucky and opening his mouth to ask whether they should go left or right at the fork in the path a few steps in front of him, but Bucky shakes his head. “Run like I’m not here, except just not silently.”

“I love how you assume I don’t sing to myself while I run.” Steve’s face splits into a grin, and he veers left, bumping into Bucky’s side as he does so. There is no need to, but Steve likes his simple pleasures, and a split second of an innocent touch definitely is something that Steve would rather not have to live without.

“Oh god I hope you do.” Bucky chuckles before speeding up, leaving Steve shaking his head at him before pushing himself to follow. He won’t slow down for Bucky’s benefit, but he also won’t run faster than he usually does to impress Bucky with his speed. He doesn’t talk when he runs with Sam, cause he leaves him in his dust, but he doesn’t want to do that with Bucky, he wants to run with him.

**…**

Hours later, with fingers curled around a half drunk mug of mixed berry tea, Steve still has a smile touching his lips as he edits one of his papers that is due in a few days time. For him, this is ahead of himself. He’s not exactly a last minute kind of guy, but with papers, he usually ends up finishing only a day early at most.

One sock on and one sock off, Sam drops onto the armchair closest to Steve and steals the rest of Steve’s forgotten sandwich. Sandwich demolished and both socks on, Sam takes in Steve’s expression before he slumps into the chair and sighs, hand covering his face before he peeks between fingers and groans, “It’s not my imagination, you are still smiling.”

Steve ignores him.

“Alert the masses, Steve Rogers is actually smiling while he edits a fucking paper instead of scowling fro-” Steve cuts Sam off mid-sentence with a sharp and only mildly painful kick in the shin. One he sort of deserved from firstly not shutting up and also for stealing Steve’s mug and taking a large sip before he hands it back and says, “I have a lecture starting in half an hour, and you are grinning like an idiot so spill.”

“Nope.”

Sam just manages to not roll his eyes. He pulls out his phone, ignores the new text that flashes on his screen and asks, “What? Why not?”

“Cause you’ll just tease me.” Red pen in hand he draws a line through a word that never should have made it onto the page. He ignores Sam’s shocked expression as he mutters to himself about stupid autocorrect and changes another word.

Sam still has his shocked expression on as he cries out, trying to look as innocent as he possibly can, “What? I would never!”

“Uh huh.” Steve doesn’t even look up, he simply takes another sip of his tea and flips over the page, ready to cover the black and white page in red. He doesn’t usually annihilate his work, but sometimes, it’s called for.

Sam’s quiet for another moment, absentmindedly wondering where he left his shoes before he smirks, and starts, “Why would I tease you about the fact you have been lusting after that boy for endless weeks and now that you finally have him, you don’t actually have him because your head is so far up your own ass that you have not seemed to reach the realisation that he actually likes you likes you, and maybe if you got your head out of your ass you would actually be able to-”

Eyes flash up from his paper, did so a few words ago, but now they widen, and Steve quickly cuts Sam off, “Don’t finish that sentence, I beg of you Samuel.”

Sam chuckles, before his humorous expression falls , changing to serious, as he shifts to the edge of the armchair and holds Steve’s gaze. “Dude honestly, why don’t you just ask him out? I know you want to, hell Tony knows you want to, that damn boy probably knows you want to too if he isn’t as fucking oblivious as you seem to be.”

A sigh escapes his lips and Steve falls back against the couch cushions, cup abandoned on top of his paper. Palm pressed over his eyes, he tries not to think about all the reasons why asking Bucky out is a totally terrible idea. He can’t tell Sam that part of him just can’t ask Bucky out, not when he knows that no matter he looks like now, he just isn’t, well, worthy?

“I think I liked teasing better.”

Comforting hand on shoulder, Sam seems to know what Steve’s thinking without words. Glancing between fingers, Steve cannot miss Sam’s expression, knows that he wants to say more, but is grateful when all Sam asks is, “We still on for dinner with Tony and Pepper?”

Steve smiles before he nods. Pepper and Tony aren’t dating, not really, not yet, but who knows, they may be soon, and Tony already seems happier and although all this means more for Steve to tease him about and less crazy parties to be invited to, but it means a happy Tony, and Sam and Steve would never say no to that.

**…**

Beyond Steve’s better judgement, the next morning he meets Bucky for a run, and the morning after that. They may not date but Steve will take what he can get, and early morning slightly grumpy and overly complaining Bucky is a delight to behold, and Steve loves every single second of it. Even when he goes easy on an exhausted Bucky on their third run, and true to his word Bucky trips him and laughs as Steve rolls down the grass bank.

Everything is kind of perfect.

Steve feels like he is living in a bubble, floating over the ground in a blissful state, where nothing can harm him and everything is brilliant, and part of him, just a small little piece of him is just waiting for it to pop.

Sure he still has assignments to do and he still comes home with scrapes and bruises because he will not stop being ‘Captain America’, and he knows that although Bucky frowns and tells him that he’s an idiot, he also somehow manages to cherish Steve whenever he cleans him up. He isn’t super careful, and he always pulls a face whenever Steve makes a hiss of pain, saying something along the lines of, “Maybe if this hurt a little more you would think twice before doing this every fucking other day.” But there is no heat behind it. Bucky knows Steve won’t stop, and Steve knows that Bucky actually kind of likes it. He likes that he’s a knight in leather, likes that he is Bucky’s to clean up afterwards.

Steve wants to ask about his arm, he doesn’t mind that it’s metal, but the scars to worry him, the scars that litter his chest and shoulders, the scars that do not belong on Bucky’s skin but are etched into it all the same. He wants to know what happened, wants to ask, but he continues to say nothing, doesn’t want to push because it is Bucky’s secret to tell and he needs to be ready before he reveals it to Steve. However much Steve wants to know, he wants Bucky to feel comfortable telling him more.

It’s been almost a month since Tony called Bucky on Steve’s phone and made him talk to him, and Steve seems to spend most of the time not spent with Bucky either working at Shield or working on essays and drawings, and anytime left over is getting harassed by Sam and Tony about Bucky and of course pining over James Buchanan Barnes.

It’s a Tuesday when Sam asks him for probably the fortieth time, “You ever going to ask him out on a date?”

This isn’t out of the blue, it’s smack bang in the middle of the blue. Pizza eaten and half way through an episode of How to Get Away with Murder that they are both addicted to, Steve has listened to ad breaks fill of Sam’s teasing. Sure technically he started it, teased Sam about Maria since her sister was in town and wanted to meet Maria’s flavour of the month, a comment that almost gave Sam a panic attack until he realised that the sister was trying to be funny and had of course failed miserably at doing so.

“Hmmm let me think about that for a sec-” Steve ponders, scratching his chin as he screws his face up in concentration before the answer hits him and he points his finger towards the ceiling as he declares, “How about no.”

“But Steve you-”

Sam stops, rest of the sentence catching between teeth as the ad break finishes and their show is back on. He won’t pester Steve while the shows on, not this show at least, but this conversation is far from over and both of them know it.

Steve knows that Sam is trying to get him to actually move his relationship forward with Bucky, something that he wants, but something that he cannot quite bring himself to get, he just, he isn’t really sure what to say, how to do it. He’s awkward sometimes, he knows that, but this isn’t it, this is something else. This is him not wanting to ruin their friendship, this is him knowing that a guy like Bucky would never go for someone like him, maybe for a one night stand, but as a relationship? No. The packaging is what always appeals people these days, and the person inside, never fails at driving them away.

He can’t tell Sam this of course. Sam will try and convince Steve that he’s wrong, but he knows he is right about this. He knows that even though he likes Bucky in a way that he really shouldn’t, it’s probably better for him just not to bother. Bucky’s a good friend, a great friend, and Steve doesn’t want to ruin that by asking him out on a date. No matter how much he actually wants to ask him out.

**…**

It was Tony’s idea.

This was all Tony’s idea, which of course meant that if this went badly it was all Tony’s fault as well.

Of course Tony isn’t aware of Steve’s plan, and if it is, he simply doesn’t care. He couldn’t give two shits about how Steve doesn’t want to ask Bucky out for a whole list of reasons that Tony would just roll his eyes at.

So Tony, does what Tony does best, he thinks. Fed up with Roger’s pining, he comes up with an idea.

Tony would argue that technically it wasn’t his fault, his idea, but Steve’s. He left his phone unlocked on the couch beside Tony when he went to the kitchen to get another packet of chips. Sure Sam had kicked Tony when he had reached for the phone, but Tony hadn’t been swayed by that. Instead he’d grabbed the phone and slipped out of the room before Steve even noticed. Dialling Bucky’s number as he closed the front door behind him, Tony had finished his phone call by the time Steve had come crashing through his own front door into the hallway looking panic stricken, but the damage was already done.

So that was why they were here, at the Howling Commandos at 8pm on a Friday night. Friday was date night Tony had told them about a hundred times already today, Sam would normally have no problem with that, except that Tony had said it about a hundred fucking times and it was getting on his nerves, and Steve, well the knowing glint in Tony’s eyes was annoying enough without the constant reminder that it was date night.

He didn’t even want to consider the possibility that Bucky would bring a date, or would get a date at some point in the evening. He knew it was insane to think that Bucky, gorgeous and shockingly still single Bucky wouldn’t have a date on a Friday but then there he was, walking through the door in tight black jeans and a leather jacket, and one arm wrapped around Nat, the other wrapped around a blonde attractive man that Steve could only assume was Clint, Nat’s boyfriend. Well possible boyfriend, if they had reached the point of their relationship where they used that term at least, Steve wasn’t entirely sure yet and he knew he would wait until he was told.

**…**

Steve has his face buried against his palms and he groans, while the others laugh. He’s blushing he knows he is, and he is past the point of glaring at Sam and Tony to shut the fuck up. Not exactly sure when they decided that it was time to bring up embarrassing stories from Steve’s past, Steve had spent the last half hour taking sips of his beer between blushing and stammering out, ‘It wasn’t like that’ and ‘I didn’t actually-’, but no one paid attention to that.

“Why am I not even a little bit surprised?” Bucky asks, slinging his arm around Steve’s shoulder and pulling his body towards his, Steve’s head knocking against his and instead of shifting away from it like he knows he probably should, he melts into Bucky’s touch and groans louder, setting the others off laughing again at his embarrassment.

Tony scans the table, assessing the practically empty bottles, and upside down shot glasses before he asks, “Another round?”

“Fuck yes” is the general consensus. None of them actually have lectures to go tomorrow, and no one has an early shift, so tonight, they don’t really give a shit, they’ll drink and laugh and they may end the night throwing up, but they may not. Either way, with the exception of Steve who has barely ever felt hung over and Nat who seemed to magically be able to drink almost anyone under the table and yet never look like remotely hungover the following morning, they were all going to look and feel like death warmed up tomorrow.

“Darts?” Clint asks for the fourth time, and even though Bucky shakes his head and Nat groans louder than Steve, Bucky pulls Steve to his feet and Nat grabs Pepper’s hand, and Sam is on his feet, fingers linking with Maria as they follow the five of them to the dart board as Tony heads to the bar for another round.

Pepper mutters something to Nat and she explodes with laughter, and then she signs something to Bucky who chuckles against Steve’s shoulder as he quickly signs back, hands moving too fast for Steve to follow. They laugh as Clint stretches in front of the dart board, and Bucky is leaning against Steve as he exchanges a glance with Nat, while the others take bets on how bad Clint will be.

The first game Nat wins by a landslide, followed by Steve and then Sam, with Clint beating only Tony who complained that the darts needed to be better designed to be more effective.

By the third game, everyone is taking bets and Clint is still doing his ridiculous stretches every time it’s his turn, resulting in his turn taking three times as long and he still manages to get the second worst scores, with only Tony still being worse than him, despite his angry mutterings about the physics of it being utterly simple.

“Last round.” Nat informs them after Steve and Tony get in a heated debate about whether or not the game was bias based on the shape and length of the dart in accordance to ones’ hand. Steve argued that Tony was fucking mental and this was just a game, and Tony was saying that the game of darts was not a fair one even at the best of times.

There’s booing, which Steve is pretty sure is coming from Sam who is nursing another glass of scotch, and wanting to be second place instead of sitting unsteadily on third. Maria frowns, and wraps her arm around Sam’s waist as she leans against him. She can hold her liquor better than Sam, but she’s had more to drink, and not that Steve would tell Sam, but he’s pretty sure that’s the only reason Maria isn’t kicking both their asses and taking second place.

“Wanna make this interesting?” Tony asks, eyes glinting in a way that not even Steve can miss from a metre away, leaning against a table with Bucky beside him, side pressed against his side, in a way that is killing Steve in the best possible way.

The question is directed at Clint, so Clint alone acknowledges the question and actually answers it, “How so?”

“$50 if you actually come third?” Sam makes a noise of protest at that. No one really believes that Clint will manage that, but Sam wants to be second not fourth.

Maria scoffs, “Easy money.”

Steve misses the look exchanged between Nat and Bucky, misses how the corner of Bucky’s lip is threatening to give him away, misses how Nat is biting on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. Clint however isn’t even close to breaking, he considers Tony’s proposition for a moment and carefully but not obviously avoids glancing at Bucky or Nat.

“What about you pay the tab if I bet Steve and Sam?” Clint asks, sounding hopeful and Sam snorts. There is no way that Clint can bet Sam and Steve. Not if the last few rounds are any indication.

Tony smiles, considers this for a flicker of a second before he asks, “And when you don’t?”

“Then I’ll get the tab.”

Hand extended, Clint meets it, and the deal is struck. Tony grinning and Clint giving him a small smile as his handshakes in Tony’s grasp before he lets go, and his fingers curl around the darts Pepper passes to him. Maria is shaking with laughter, her back towards them all as she forgoes heading off to the bar, she knows she wants to see this.

Clint goes first, does his crazy stretches that get Tony chuckling and making jokes about the next drink he’ll order since drinks are on Barton. Sam is halfway through telling Bucky about the time Steve bet the shit out of a sophomore who tried to slip a date rape drug into some woman’s drink, when Clint throws his first dart, and everyone shuts the fuck up.

It’s a triple 20.

Tony is gaping at the board, not able to believe his eyes, and Steve would have been sure that Clint cheated if he hadn’t of seen him throw it with his own two eyes.

Clint doesn’t say a word, just throws his darts, getting two more triple twenties before he leisurely takes a sip of his beer and lazily throws his last dart, hitting a bulls eye, before smirking at all of them.

Nat and Bucky are clutching each other, their eyes are wet with tears and they continue laughing at Tony, Sam, Steve and Pepper’s shocked expressions. Steve glances over at Bucky who just shrugs, before he goes back to laughing.

“I can’t believe I was hustled.” Tony groans.

Bucky smirks and catches the darts that Clint throws at him. Tony goes to tell him that they really shouldn’t, but Bucky catches them effortlessly, not even really paying attention to the darts as he tells Tony, “Game’s not over yet Stark.”

Shocking absolutely no one Clint wins. Sure he is closely followed by Bucky, who just like Clint had being trying to miss and not putting Steve and Sam to shame. No that he was playing properly, Steve had to admit, he looked fucking gorgeous doing so. He wasn’t sure if it was the cocky smile or the effortless grace, but something about it all, made Steve wonder why he was holding back on dating Bucky, well asking him out at the very least.

**…**

Back in the booth, Steve checked his messages before he slipped his phone back into his pocket and refocused on the conversation around him. Everyone is a little buzzed with alcohol, and smiles are loose and expressions care free.

It seems too easy in a sense, too simple that Sam, Tony, Pepper and Maria (who actually knew Clint already) are getting along with Nat and Clint, and that although Bucky seems to get along with everyone, he seems to keep gravitating back to Steve. Something that Steve had been trying hard not to notice until Sam jabbed him in the rib cage and pointed out it loudly to him when Bucky had slipped out with Clint without a word after the last game of darts.

**…**

“Would you care to dance?” Tony asks, sweating a little but not enough so that Steve could notice, he just knows that Tony was nervous and nervous meant sweating. It also means shaking hands that he tries to conceal, but Tony isn’t concealing them this time, he’s extended one out towards Pepper, hand shaking and expression hopeful.

Pepper doesn’t hesitate. Hand in Tony’s she lets him pull her from her seat as she grins, “Took you long enough.”

“Cute.” Bucky coos as he watches the two of them head away from the table. Nat giggles and Steve wonders whether the two of them heard Bucky. He knocks his shoulder against Bucky when Bucky starts making kissing sounds loud enough to catch Tony’s attention. Tony glances back over his shoulder, and looks at Steve who give him the thumbs up and smile that Tony gratefully receives before turning his attention back to Pepper.

Bucky scans the bar, obviously looking for something, and for half a dreadful second Steve wonders if he’s looking for someone to pick up. He can’t help the way his stomach churns in jealously, or the fact that when Bucky asks, “Where’d Hill get to?” Steve smiles far too brightly than is strictly necessary.

Nat gives him an odd look but doesn’t comment, before she answers Bucky, “Kicking Sam and Clint’s asses at pool.”

“Is Clint as good at pool as he is at darts?”

Bucky snorts at the question, before he rolls his eyes. “He ain’t half bad at pool, just not after this many shots.”

**…**

After yet another round of shots is thrown back, Steve’s brain is seeming to forget a lot of the reasons he has for not just closing the gap between him and Bucky and just kissing him. Whenever Bucky knocks shoulders with him, Steve leans into the touch, he can’t help it, and he doesn’t even try to stop himself from doing it. Every movement is loosened with alcohol, and Steve finds himself touching Bucky as often as he can without it looking suspicious, without it being too much. He’s not really a tactile person, but Bucky is, so he can get away with it.

Bucky had laughed into Nat’s shoulder when Sam told another story from him and Steve’s past, and after Nat rolled her eyes at Clint’s suggestion to dance, Bucky had gone instead, and Steve had to fight to keep his gaze off the two of them as they danced like dorks while somehow still looking hot. Nat had slipped over halfway through the second song, and Steve had struggled to keep up with Maria and Tony’s conversation about, well, he really couldn’t care less.

But that was a while ago now. Now Bucky is sitting next to him, lips curled into a smile and his body pressed up against Steve’s side as he takes another sip of beer, and blushes a little as Nat finishes her story and Steve laughs, wishing that he could have been there to see Bucky running through campus, stark naked ‘cept for the American flag tied around his waist.

Silence falls on the table, comfortable silence, that Steve has an urge to break.

He’s not going to confess his love, nothing stupid like that, but his filter that he usually has a good control over, is cracking, and as he lips part, he honestly doesn’t know what he’s going to say, and he doesn’t get to find out, as Bucky’s phone vibrates on the table and starts blearing out ‘Walking on Sunshine’.

“It’s my baby sis!” Bucky exclaims, a little louder than necessary when he glances at the caller id, something he doesn’t need to do, already knowing it’s Becca from the ringtone. Steve lets his unsaid sentence fall and his body does not shift (well only a little) to follow Bucky when the brunette stands up, phone in one hand as he slips between bodies and heads towards the door, obviously wanting the quiet of the street.

“What are you waiting for Rogers?” Nat slips into the booth beside him as soon as Bucky is out of earshot. Really she could have stayed where she was sitting, Steve would have heard her just fine, but no, she wants to be beside him. There isn’t much point really, Clint has already left on account of an early shift, and Sam is dancing with Maria and Tony is somewhere kissing Pepper, so it really is just the two of them now.

Despite Nat moving closer, Steve still isn’t even a little bit sure as to what she is asking him. Well he has an idea, but he doesn’t think that she is saying what he thinks she is saying. So he simply settles on saying, “Huh?”

“You obviously like him, so tell him.”

She was saying what he thought she was saying.

Is it that obvious? Steve doesn’t have time to consider that because he is already on the defensive, trying to conceal the look of shock splayed across of his features that is telling Nat what he doesn’t want to be telling her. His body language and expression are telling her one thing, but his mouth starts trying to tell her something different, “I don’t-”

“Don’t even bother.” Nat cuts him off. She raises her eyebrow at his expression but doesn’t say anything when his mouth opens and then shuts again.

“Okay fine yes I like him, I don’t just like him as a person, I like him like him and I just-”

Nat isn’t in the mood to put up with Steve’s stammering, she is too drunk to beat around the bush, so she cuts Steve short, “So tell him.”

“Why so he can tell me he’d rather we just stayed friends?”

Nat snorts at that. The snort is totally not helping Steve, especially when Nat starts laughing to herself before she takes a swig of Bucky’s beer and looks at Steve, rolling her eyes.

He feels like he is being judged by her look, but he can’t tell, he does know that she assessing him with her gaze. And just when he thinks she has moved on, just when they’ve sat in silence for long enough that he hopes Sam and Maria will actually come back or that Bucky will finish his phone call, Nat opens her mouth.

“Yeah sure, that’s what he wants, to be friends with you forever, just friends, nothing more. God Steve you two are as fucking oblivious as each other.”

He is a little drunk so it takes him a few seconds to wrap his head around what she just said, and then when it actually sinks in, he is even more confused. “Wait what?”

Nat seems amused by the confusion, she chuckles to herself and leans back against the booth, silent for a few moments as she considers what to say to Steve before she says decisively,  “Just ask him why we started coming to Shield.”

“Why did you?”

She rolls her eyes again, and Steve finds that he doesn’t like being on the receiving end of that look that she gives him, the look that he can now firmly say tells him that he is an imbecile. “I didn’t say ask me dumbass, I said ask him.”

“Why?” Steve asks. Head a little fuzzy from alcohol, brain not quite processing this new information, Steve just stares at Nat, willing her to tell him even though he knows that she won’t. But he really wants to know why they started coming to Shield.

Nat grins at his question, and he knows that she definitely will not let a single drop of information slip. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Helpful as usual, thanks Nat.” Steve sighs, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, eyes scanning the ground as he does so. He blushes a little when he sees Bucky enter the bar, stuffs his phone in his front pocket before he makes his way over to them. He doesn’t know what it is about that brunette, but he smiles at him before he can stop himself and averts his gaze so that Bucky doesn’t notice. Nat of course notices and chuckles to herself again, not even silenced when Steve kicks her under the table.

“You’ll thank me later.” Is Nat says, and then she is slipping out of his seat and grabbing Bucky by the arm before he reaches the table and pulling him towards the dart board, because she knows that Steve needs a Bucky-less few minutes to try and process what she just said. He doesn’t really understand it, but he wants to ask Bucky, although part of him doesn’t want to ask him anything.

One thing he knows for sure though, is that when the waitress brings a fresh round of shots, he will be drinking one for him, one for Clint who isn’t here to drink it and one more, or perhaps two more for good luck.

**…**

He thinks about that question all night, tries to work out what Nat was getting at but he doesn’t actually ask Bucky. Doesn’t ask him when they walk home, and Steve insists that he walks the long way just so they can part half way between their places, because Steve is stubborn and won’t let Bucky walk him home and then have to walk back to his place alone and Bucky is stubborn and won’t let the opposite happen.

“Night Steve.” Bucky says when they reach their point of separation. They have been chatting and joking and teasing since they left the bar, and Steve thinks he might just be drunk enough that he could pull Bucky into a hug and get away with it, but he waits too long. Bucky turns away and heads down the street, hands slipping back into pockets, and Steve watches him go, wondering why Bucky lingered longer than usual, wondering why he didn’t just follow what his brain and heart were telling him to do and just hug him or better yet kiss him.

Steve just lets a small puff of air out of his mouth in frustration and turns on his heel, shoving hands into the pockets of his jeans before realising that these jeans are far too tight for that, so instead he stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets and heads down the street. He’s only ten steps in when Bucky turns around, and Steve doesn’t see him, doesn’t catch Bucky’s expression or the way his eyes linger before he sighs at himself for not having the nerve to say anything to Steve.

But because neither of them can deal with their feelings, deal with their emotions, the two of them walk home alone, wondering the ‘could have been’s, and hoping that they will one day become weres not ifs. Hoping that one day they will actually be able to just ignore the fear and self-doubt and just say what they need to say.

**…**

In truth, Steve actually forgets about what Natasha had said for days. It’s Thursday morning by the time he remembers what she had said at the bar. To be fair he had been a little drunk at the time, which is why he didn’t immediately remember it in the morning after. And then just when he had been remembering, and trying to think about what Nat could possibly have meant, he was reminded of two assignments that he really should have started on at least a fortnight ago, and then he was swamped with essays and sketches and Nat’s comment slips his mind.

It isn’t till he is running with Bucky on his left, still grumbling about how fucking early it is, that he remembers Nat’s comment. And he basically trips over his own feet on the pavement when he remembers.

Bucky of course slips a hand around Steve’s waist and steadies him, catching him before Steve can actually fall flat on his face. He is trying desperately not to blush, not at Bucky’s hand, but over the fact that he tripped up on literally nothing and now Bucky is looking at him, eyes wide with concern as he asks, “Shit Steve you okay?”

“Yeah fine, just,” He glances at the ground, hoping for a tree root or anything in sight that he could use for an excuse, but typically there is absolutely nothing there, so he finishes lamely with a flourish of his hand, “Thin air”

Bucky chuckles, and he looks at Steve for a moment longer than necessary, hand still lingering on Steve’s hip, keeping him steady. Steve isn’t sure whether he is actually breathing anymore, and then Bucky is playfully shoving him, arm shifting from Steve to hang back by Bucky’s side and then Bucky takes off with a sprint.

And just like that Steve forgets to ask Bucky why he started coming to Shield, and he just takes after him with a sprint. He’s a little competitive, and he knows that whoever reaches the water fountain last has to shout for coffee, so he laughs victoriously as he runs past Bucky only to have smile sweetly at him before he turns the corner sharply and Steve is brought to a halt when he realises that Bucky was sprinting ahead of him for one reason. Because he knew Steve wouldn’t pay attention to the group of mothers with strollers who were now blocking his path.

“Take that biaatch!” Bucky yells back once he’s out of sight and Steve groans and tries not to blush in front of the mothers that aren’t looking at him disapprovingly like he’d expected, but like they want to eat him with a spoon.

**…**

The next few days pass, somewhat uneventfully. Steve doesn’t see much of Bucky aside from their early morning runs, which Sam joins them on twice before they piss him off so much he just decides to stick to running an hour later without them being little shits.

Steve works, ignores the looks that Nat gives him, the raised eyebrow and the small nod of her head, telling him to just ask Bucky already. But Steve doesn’t want to ask yet, he can’t ask yet. And he isn’t entirely sure why. He wants to ask, needs to ask, but he also doesn’t want to know, not yet. He hasn’t been able to build up the courage to actually ask Bucky out on a date, an actual date, or to tell him that if Bucky were interested, only if he were, that maybe they could be more than friends, one day, soon hopefully. But he can’t ask him either of those things, not yet. So instead he is focussing his efforts on trying to build up the nerve to ask Bucky about why they started coming to Shield.

The more he thinks about it, the tighter his throat feels. The more he wonders, the more insane the thoughts are that tumble into his brain, and he isn’t really sure what his brain is trying to tell him, and he isn’t entirely sure he wants to know that.

He gets marks back on a few assignments and lets Tony and Sam drag him out to dinner to celebrate. And more surprisingly while they are there Bucky’s name is only mentioned twice, and Sam and Steve spend most of the evening teasing Tony about Pepper, and the rest of the time is asking Sam about Maria.

**…**

Steve is sitting outside Shield, his face bent over his sketch book and a half drunk smoothie sitting next to him, completely forgotten as he sketches. Someone drops down beside him, and he shifts over a little, but the knee beside him chases his and as he gaze lingers on the knee for a second longer he grins.

“Hey.” He grins, looking up at Bucky who is sitting beside him, a coffee in his hand and a smile on his face. Steve shuts his sketchbook quickly, hoping to god that Bucky didn’t look at it, not properly at least.

“Hey.” Bucky answers, his voice is soft and god, Steve needs to kiss him, needs to feel his…

Wait-

The question pops back into his mind and suddenly he cannot think of anything else. He’s been trying and failing to ask Bucky it for days, between forgetting and actually avoiding thinking about, he hasn’t quite managed to work up the nerve to ask him. But now, now he doesn’t care anymore, it’s been a long fucking day and he wants an answer.

"Why did you start coming here?" Steve starts, the question escaping his mouth before he can stop it, he bites down on his tongue the second he hears it, but he can’t take it back and he does want to know, so as he tries keep his face expressionless, of course he fails, but he tries to be nonchalant all the same.

"I heard that it had really good coff-”

"That's shit, why did you really?" Steve interrupts as he shakes his head. Bucky blushes, and Steve can’t think of any reason for him to do so. Averting his eyes, Bucky looks away from Steve and Steve stares at him, wondering whether he shouldn’t have pushed the issue but now, more curious than ever before.

"I sorta found out where you worked." Bucky mutters, turning to look back at Steve, his blue eyes flash with uncertainty as he carefully watches Steve, wishing that he could have lied his way through Steve’s questioning, but somehow knowing that Steve would be able to tell.

"What?" That was not at all the answer Steve had been expecting, he was not prepared for that and now he was gaping at Bucky wondering why the hell he would try to find out where he worked.

"I uh-" Bucky stammers, not able to read Steve's reaction as easily as he had hoped. Steve is still gaping at him and Bucky feels like his mind is blank and cannot think of a single thing it say next as he silently hoped Steve will cut him off.

"Why didn't you talk to me?" Steve asks and Bucky gets his wish. Steve continues to gape at Bucky wondering how on earth any of this is happening, it doesn’t make any sense to him, why would Bucky find out where he worked, why would he care and why was he stammering?

"I tried but-" Bucky starts, his hand on his arm as he almost wrings it, Steve can tell he is nervous, and that doesn’t help Steve gain a better understand of what is happening.

"Your mind went blank." Steve intercedes, his voice quiet as he keeps eye contact with Bucky, wondering why his heart is beating so loudly, and how despite his whole punk persona, he feels as though his conversation is steadily turning into a romantic comedy.

"Yeah and my heart pounded in my chest so loud I swear I was in a club," Bucky continues, his expression is no longer uncertain as a small smile twitches at the corner of his lips.

"And you couldn’t stop shaking or think of a single intelligent thing to say." Steve finishes off, hardly believing the words coming out of Bucky’s mouth or his own. He still feels nervous, but that is on the back burner now, instead he feels like grinning, because despite all odds Bucky actually seems to feel the same way as he does.

"Exactly." Bucky sighs.

"Wait why did you want to talk to me in the first place?" Steve asks incredulously, as he looks over at Bucky again, eager for an answer. He can see a look flicker across Bucky’s face before his ears go slightly red, and Steve marvels at how he could make Bucky feel like this.

"Well about a fortnight before I started going to Shield you came in to buy a jumper I think...” Bucky starts. Steve smiles as he notices a familiar look on Bucky’s face, he looks as though he wants the ground to swallow him whole. It had been months since Bucky had walked into the café, and over those few months Steve had imagined almost every possible scenario, but not once did this particular one, or even one slightly similar arise.

"In... Oh right you worked there!" Steve interrupts before it dawns on him. Bucky glances over at him with a curious expression and Steve’s ears redden before he adds with a smile, "I may have done some gentle stalking of my own. Anyway continue." Bucky smiles in response as Steve’s smile widens, even reaching his eyes and Steve recognises the expression on Bucky’s face and Steve’s ears redden a little more.

“You were talking to Peggy, uh the brunette, and you were in there for about twenty minutes, and I couldn’t focus on anything, I just sort of eavesdropped.” Bucky started, his cheeks reddening slightly as he silently wished his heart rate to slow down and his breathing to normalise but with Steve looking at him with his blue eyes that Bucky so often wanted to get lost in, he simply couldn’t relax.

“Oh.” Steve breathes, not able to say anything else.

“You just sounded so perfect, you were sarcastic and cynical, while being hilarious and insightful and kind and just, the laughter you may have heard sometimes that could have been me.”

“I can’t even remember what we talked about.” Steve says, trying to remember the conversation, trying to remember what Peggy and him had talked about when they were in the changing room cut off from view. He hadn’t even seen Bucky, and then something suddenly occurs to him.

“I mean it sort of sounded like you could have been flirting with her, but I just, I couldn’t resist I guess. And when you left without trying to ask her out, I thought, I mean I hoped that-” Bucky continued, his cheeks reddening and his eyes downcast. He wanted to stop talking but he couldn’t help himself, he simply couldn’t stop.

“You couldn’t see me.” Steve mutters, slowly processing what Bucky had just told him.

“Well no b-” Bucky starts, unsure what Steve is thinking, unsure what he is going to say. “When I saw you walking out of the changing rooms I knew it had to have been you since you were the only one in there, and I ju-” Bucky adds, when Steve says nothing in return. Nervously wringing his hands, he watches Steve who is staring at Bucky completely dumbfounded.

“You didn’t see me until I left.” Steve says slowly, utterly nonplussed.

“No, and when I did I thanked God I was standing behind a desk.” Bucky grins, before quickly adding, “It wasn’t hard to find you, Peggy said your name was Steve and you mentioned something about working nearby so I asked around and found you. I hope you don-” He isn’t sure what Steve is thinking, and he is starting to worry.

“I was invisible and you saw me.” Steve says, his voice low but clear, he is staring into Bucky’s piercing blue eyes now, a far off look in his own eyes as he stares at Bucky.

“You lost me.” Bucky breathes, looking at Steve in confusion now. Steve is looking right at Bucky, but he isn’t really looking at him, he is staring at him as it dawns on him.

“You didn’t even see me and you...” Steve’s eyes widen as he continues to stare at Bucky, his face calm but his head not. He pauses, not sure how to articulate what he wants to say.

“Started to fall for you.” Bucky finishes, his voice even despite the screaming going on inside of his head and the pounding of his heart against his rib cage, beating so damn fast as he forgets how to breathe and just stares at Steve.

Neither of them move.

Steve just sits still, staring into Bucky’s eyes and his stares right back into his, neither of them knowing what to do, or what to say. His eyes linger of Bucky’s lips for a moment, wanting to kiss them, wanting to taste him, wanting to finally know what he had imagined for months would feel like. Leaning forward, just a tiny bit, Steve keeps his eyes on Bucky’s lips and can hear his heart beat quicken when Bucky’s tongue slips between them and quickly licks them.

**…**

“Hurry up Rogers, break times over.” Sam yells from the café door, and Steve looks towards the door, and glares at Sam who is already walking back inside, oblivious of what he just did. Turning back to Bucky, who moved back when Steve turned, he only moved his head back a tiny bit but it feels like yards to Steve.

“I uh-” Steve starts his voice shaking again. He is going to throttle Sam.

“You should go.” Bucky says, clearing his throat and giving Steve a small smile, that only makes Steve want to kiss him more.

“Yeah.” Steve says hesitantly.

Not wanting to leave Bucky, not wanting to go into the café, what he does want was that moment back, that moment just before Sam disturbed them, that moment just before they kissed. “See you round?” Steve adds. His expression is hopeful as he stands up from the bench slowly, his eyes still on Bucky who nods in reply. A smile splits across Steve’s face before he turns towards the café and walks inside, ready to kill Sam for his little interruption.

“Sorry I waited as long as I could, Fury was going to have an aneurysm if you didn’t get back in.” Sam apologises as soon as the door shuts behind Steve, he does look apologetic but that doesn’t quell even a drop of Steve’s annoyance.

“You couldn’t of just waited another 30 seconds?” Steve practically hisses as Sam passes him a tea towel, and ignores the glare Steve sends his way.

“Wait so he could confess his love to you?” Sam pauses, registers the look on Steve’s face and gapes at him for a few seconds before, “Holy shit he did??”

Steve doesn’t reply, not initially at least. He serves a customer, and then another, and he can feel Sam’s curious gaze almost drilling holes into the back of his head, as if trying to see into his brain himself to get the answer that Steve is too busy working to share.

Sam heads out to a table, and Steve wipes down the bench, serves another customer, and then as Sam gets within hearing range, Sam’s lips are parting, about to prompt Steve for an answer that he has been not so patiently waiting for, for at least 6 minutes now, and he has absolutely no patience, he really wants to know.

“Sorta, ish, well not really but kinda-” Steve starts, the red in his cheeks return, and the glare diminishing as he smiles. “Well not in so many words.”

Making a mental to text Tony all he finds out later, Sam quickly glances behind him, checking that Fury can see him stacking cups and looking as though he is super focused on working as he asks Steve, “Did you ‘sorta ish kinda’ say it back?”

“No I-” Steve pushes his hair back, hand stilling for a moment before he lets it drop back by his side.

Sam groans, sure Steve didn’t have game, but he thought he could be trusted to do this. Months of pining now, and in the moment of truth he didn’t say anything back to whatever almost confession Bucky made to him. “Tell me you at least kissed him.”

“I wa-”

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence, Sam already knows that is a resolute no, one look at his face he knows it was a no, and really he should  have guessed that already, Steve had walked in to Shield looking pissed rather than blissful. Pissed at Sam, something that Sam has actually forgotten, but how long for? Not too long. Especially as Sam exasperatedly prompts, “Why didn’t you?”

“Cause you interrupted!” Steve says through gritted teeth.

“Oh!” A sound of enlightenment as it all falls into place. Fury glances over at them, the loud sound catching his attention. Steve quickly turns to the customer approaching the till and he smiles politely at him, a fake smile, Sam can tell, and he totally understands why Steve was pissed at him before. Leaning around Steve to get something, he says, only loud enough for Steve’s ears, completely sincerely, “Shit. Sorry man.”

**…**

His shift seems to take fucking days. In reality it is only about three hours, but by god it feels like at least 10. His phone of course died, which is just absolutely typically, and his charger is all the way in his apartment, and Steve hasn’t quite reached the level of texting Bucky off Sam’s phone. (The only reason that being so is because he doesn’t actually know whether the last five digits of Bucky’s number are 32557 or 23577)

He runs through the conversation again, already missing parts of it, already missing chunks, already doubting himself, wondering if he did in fact make bits up, and he hopes to god that he wasn’t making up that look in Bucky’s eyes, or the fact that Bucky was truthful in telling him that he was falling for him, before he had even seen Steve. He didn’t like Steve because of what he looked like, he had heard him, had listened to him while he worked, and had crushed on the person, not the packaging.

Sam has already left, he had a lecture, and had just managed to leave before actually giving Steve one. The only thing that stopped him was Fury’s presence, so Sam had given Steve a hard look that Steve didn’t have to try and think about before understanding.

So that is why, over three hours after he had almost kissed Bucky Barnes he is walking up the stairs in Bucky’s apartment building. His first thought when he reaches the second floor iss that he should have got flowers. People like flowers don’t they? People bought flowers in these, event like occasions, the love confessions usually came with flowers, he should have brought flowers. Phone dead and utterly useless in his pocket, Steve pulls it out when he reaches the third floor and almost starts texting Tony to ask whether or not flowers would have been a good idea before he realised that his phone was dead, so he was on his own, without flowers, or much idea how to deal with his current situation.

Only a few more stairs until Bucky’s floor, Steve shook his head and tried to steel his nerves, flowers he didn’t have, and he didn’t need them, he could do that thing later. Now it was just about him, just about him and Bucky and not about flowers or anything else, because he wanted to kiss Bucky, but it was more than that, it wasn’t just about that, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about that specific activity for the better part of his shift.

Standing frozen outside of Bucky’s door he knows that he should have called, he should have texted, he should have, well done, something. Because now he is feeling like an idiot, standing outside of Bucky’s door, his hands stuffed into his pockets and his heart in his throat.

He might not even be home. He might be busy, doing, busy things that well, don’t include being home. And Steve turns to leave, is ready to leave, but then he remembers the look Sam gave him, so before his nerves give out on him and he dashes to the staircase and flees from the building, Steve turns on his heel and gives two short sharp knocks on Bucky’s door.

I’ll give him ten seconds, Steve reasons, and he counts in his head. Counts to calm his nerves, and then he hears Bucky say goodbye to someone on the other side of the door and Steve is wanting to back away from the door and disappear, but there isn’t time because the handle is turning and the door is opening in front of him and he is frozen where he stands, unable to move as he tries to remember what he was going to say.

“Steve, hey!” Bucky is smiling, looking a little surprised to find Steve out in the hallway, but he only shows that for a second before he is ushering Steve into his apartment. And Steve wants to just say it, give the speech that he had been going over for the past hour at least, but he pauses, pauses to take a breath as he steps inside, eyes sweeping the apartment as his foot taps the door, and it starts to close.

“I’m going to Baltimore.” Bucky blurts out before the door is even shut behind Steve. Before Steve can even process the look of utter exhilaration of Bucky’s face, before he can even come to terms with the fact that Bucky is throwing his phone up in the air and catching it, his hair still wet from the shower and his jeans so tight they are freaking distracting. But Steve isn’t distracted by the jeans or the flying twirling phone that Bucky never fails to catch, he is distracted by those four words. That make his breath catch, and not in the way it did a few hours ago.

God. He is going to be sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter to go guys.... (Although there may possibly be an epilogue)


	7. The bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m going to Baltimore.”
> 
> That was what Bucky had said, Steve hadn’t been wrong about that, he hadn’t misheard him, that hadn’t happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a looooot longer than expected, sorry about that!   
> But this is the beginning of the end ...

He was going to tell Bucky how he felt. He was going to actually tell him, he was going to open himself up to Bucky, to let him know that Bucky wasn’t the only one of them that was falling. And now Steve wasn’t falling in a good way, in a way that made his heart pound against his chest in a good way, now he was falling off a moving train, falling into nothingness with nothing to grip onto as he falls.

“I’m going to Baltimore.”

That was what Bucky had said, Steve hadn’t been wrong about that, he hadn’t misheard him, that hadn’t happened. Bucky is standing in front of Steve in a bright blue shirt that matched his eyes in such a tragically perfect way that makes Steve just want to kiss him even more. But that wasn’t what he was thinking of now. No, that wasn’t it at all.

Whatever he had thought Bucky would say; this was not what Steve was expecting, at all. “What?”

“Well not necessarily but they offered me the internship at John Hopkins.”  Bucky shakes his head, a little nervous but not enough to dampen his excitement.

Not wanting to dampen Bucky’s mood, Steve plasters on a smile and asks as eagerly as he can, “You got in?”

“Yes! I couldn’t believe at first I thought it was just like Peter being a dick or something, but it was actually them, they want me!”

Bucky is so damn excited, face split open with a grin, a grin that reaches his eyes and he is almost shaking with excitement, he hasn’t been able to stand still since Steve walked in. And so Steve is the only Steve he knows how to be, the Steve that is happy for his friend because his friend is happy, the Steve that ignores his feelings when faced with those of another, so he grins, well tries to as best he can and exclaims, completely sincerely, “That’s awesome!”

It hurts, all of this does. He feels a headache coming on, but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t happy for Bucky. He knows a lot about hospitals but not about internships, but he does know that John Hopkins would be a perfect place for Bucky to do his residency and it seems like an opportunity that Bucky is over the fucking moon about so he isn’t going to ruin Bucky’s moment with any of his own personal shit. This isn’t about that, this is about Bucky, and he is happy for Bucky, the part of his heart that isn’t splintering is happy for Bucky, because Bucky is obviously happy and that is really all Steve wants.

“Wait, what were you going to say?”

That is not a question that Steve wants to answer right now. He had a whole speech prepared, had all these things that he wanted to say, but he can’t now. Not with Bucky possibly leaving to fucking Baltimore, not when he is so damn excited about his future, about getting into Hopkins, Steve can’t ruin this for him, won’t ruin it for him. So instead of letting Bucky in on the fact that he is heart feels like it is splitting in two, Steve just shrugs and gives the most casual smile he muster up as he says, “I was just wondering if you were keen for dinner or something?”

Bucky seems to think over that for a second before his gaze falls on his phone and he gives a soft sigh, “Well I better call Becca and she’ll probably wanna go out and celebrate, so maybe tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, sure.”  Steve nods, wishing that the floor would just swallow him whole, wishing that he hadn’t bothered to come here in the first place, wishing so many damn things.

Bucky watches Steve of a moment, only a moment before his gaze flits somewhere else. He is still moving, unable to keep still, his excitement bubbling up and frothing all over the room. Steve still hasn’t moved, not really. It is hard enough controlling basic functions right now, keeping his face from actually showing what he is actually feeling right now as he tries to remember how exactly to breathe.

Bucky considers his phone, taps his hand against his thigh before he turns and faces Steve, smiling as he asks, “Unless you wanna come with?”

“Nah it’s fine, go out with your sister.” Steve replies immediately, not even giving himself an actual second to consider.

Does he want to go with them?

 Yes of course he does, but he knows he can’t, not tonight. He can’t go out and be happy, he can’t pretend that Bucky leaving to go to fucking Baltimore is amazing news. Yes he is happy for Bucky, god Bucky looks so happy, and he is so happy that Bucky is happy. But right now, right now Steve cannot be happy, he can try but he just can’t. There is no way he can out for a night with Bucky and smile and laugh when his heart is very painfully shredding itself in his chest.

“And Nat.” Bucky adds without so much as moment of hesitation. And Steve knows it shouldn’t hurt him, but it does anyway. He guesses after a night like tonight, with emotions high and hopes soaring to be suddenly shot out of the sky and grounded, it isn’t even a little surprising that this hurts like hell.

Everything hurts like a bitch, but Bucky is excited and happy, and like hell is Steve going to ruin that for him. He’s not that guy, and no matter how much it hurts him, he smiles and says as lightly as his heavy heart will allow, “Have fun.”

Bucky looks almost hesitant, like he wants to say something more, and he opens his mouth, lips parting, and Steve knows he is going to say something but his phone rings in his hand and cuts Bucky off before he even starts. Smiling at his phone, he glances over at Steve, giving him a blinding smile that makes Steve weak in the knees when Bucky asks, sounding almost hopeful, man this guy is killing him, “Call you later?”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Steve smiles, already knowing that later will probably become tomorrow and tomorrow will become the day after tomorrow. And he’s made his peace with that. It hurts, god it does, but he’s okay with that. He will drown himself in a bottle of vodka, whine to Sam and then probably reduce himself to one of his few hangovers tomorrow.

Closing the door behind him before he can say anything stupid, or before the smile drops away completely, Steve forgoes slumping against Bucky’s front door and breaks off down the corridor at a run. He wants to drag his feet behind him, sulk a little, but he also wants to get the fuck out of this building. The building that was so inviting only a few minutes ago, is now looking at him with humorous distaste, mocking his every move and breath.

Steve doesn’t stop running when he hits the street. And in a way he’s not surprised. Sam’s busy, he won’t be home, so Steve runs to Tony’s, not bothering to draw breathe until after he’s pounded on Tony’s door half a dozen times. He may be fit, but his lungs aren’t that of a superhero, so he doubles over, hands gripping just above his knees as he takes deep shaking breathes.

When Tony opens the door and ushers him inside, Steve finishes his panic attack on the floor, with Tony’s hands on his shoulders, and his voice trying to comfort him. And after fifteen minutes, all Tony manages to draw out of the shaking mess that was once Steve Rogers is one word, ‘Baltimore.’

**…**

At some point Sam arrives, Steve doesn’t really know how many hours have passed, doesn’t know how he is on the couch swaddled in blankets, a cup of tea in hand that has been sipped at a few times at least, something else that Steve doesn’t actually remember doing. Sam and Tony are in the kitchen when Steve falls back into awareness. He isn’t really sure why he feels so numb, but he knows that it is not an appropriate reaction to his friend giving him good news that he himself is fully excited by. He knows why it hurts though, he knows that Bucky isn’t just a friend, maybe one day Steve could get used to it, but he can’t do that with Bucky leaving. Loving him he can get over, well not really, but he can stop hoping for any romantic relationship, he is fine, more than fine just being Bucky’s friend. Being his friend isn’t settling, it’s a gift, a gift that is slipping through Steve’s fingers even now.

The thought of which threatens to tears, again, but instead of succumbing, again, Steve takes a sip of his tea, and finds it unsurprisingly cold. Again he wonders how much time has passed, how much he has missed, stuck in his head, focusing on just breathing in and out. It isn’t that he didn’t tell Bucky how he felt, that isn’t what is making him feel this way, it’s the fact that Bucky is leaving, probably leaving, and Steve can’t lose his friend. Especially not when a voice in the back of his mind is telling him how close Bucky was to kissing him outside Shield all those hours ago, not when that same voice is wondering if Bucky’s sudden (potential) pending departure has anything to do with what he said to Steve.

Steve cannot help but think, cannot stop himself from thinking that maybe Bucky is fleeing. He dismisses it as soon as it enters his mind, scolding himself for making this about himself, but the thought still lingers, the thought that Steve is driving Bucky away, without even realising it.

Tony and Sam are talking, their voices low and urgent behind Steve’s head. Steve hasn’t really spoken, well isn’t aware if he has since he arrived, so he isn’t really sure what Tony actually knows, but no doubt Sam is filling him in.

Steve doesn’t even bother straining his ears to listen, he knows that the two of them are bickering about what to do with Steve now, so instead of waiting in silence for them to finish he calls out, “You do realise I’m right here?”

“Steve?” Sam asks tentatively after a pause, no doubt filled with a few silent looks between Sam and Tony. Steve isn’t all that sure what Sam is asking, but then again he isn’t sure how long he’s been practically unresponsive for, so the silence isn’t all that surprising.

Steve sighs, a sound that he knows relieves the others just a little, he lets them move a few steps towards the couch where he is huddled up on before he turns to face them, smile quirking his lips as he says, “You guys can quit talking ‘bout me behind me back, make me another cup of tea, and I’ll talk.”

“Yes dear.” Tony sighs in response, flicking the kettle on as Sam lowers himself onto the coffee table in front of Steve, a tired smile on his face.

Noticing bags under eyes and the slightly drawn curtains blocking out no light, Steve glances over to where his phone is charging near the tv. Resorting to not moving for the next half an hour at least, Steve simply asks, “What time is it?”

“Almost 2.”

“Am.” Steve states. It isn’t a question, but for some reason he still seeks confirmation, and is pleased with the small nod that Sam gives him before his cup his being stolen out of his hands by Tony.

No one says another word for the next few minutes, Sam ignores the look Tony gives him but shifts off of the coffee table anyway, drops onto the armchair, eyes still fixed on Steve, but knowing to give him space, for now at least. Three cups of tea rest of the coffee table by the time Sam fixes Tony a look, and the two of them glare at each for a few seconds before turning to Steve.

Hand scraping down his face, Tony gives a sigh, before brown eyes fix onto Steve and Tony asks the question the room has been waiting for since the moment Steve stumbled inside, “You gonna tell us what happened?”

**…**

Steve doesn’t avoid Bucky for the next few days, not exactly. He just needs time to think, needs time to be alone, and to do some essays and well, not be so painfully reminded of everything Bucky. He is happy for Bucky, glad that Bucky is fulfilling his dream, and he feels like total shit that he isn’t actually happy for his friend, because this makes his friend so freaking ecstatic, but he can’t help it. He tried, after his third panic attack to convince himself that he was simply being a selfish bastard and this had to stop, but he couldn’t make himself not care.

He couldn’t.

So instead of actually dealing with the problem at hand, he drowned himself in his work, finished his assignments and took over one of Tony’s spare rooms and made it an art room for three whole days. Three days where he slept on a mattress on the floor, and left to eat, when he was starving or when Tony or Sam dragged him out. Pain he already knew made great art, and heartbreak seemed to make even better. The colours were a lot darker than what he had been recently using, and he ignored Tony’s comment about how Bucky was not only the light in his life but seemingly in his work. And Steve stands by the fact that Tony really should learn to dodge faster if he continues to say shit like that, he really should have expected the paintbrush to the face after three minutes of poking light hearted fun at Steve’s misery.

**…**

Logically he knows.

He knows Bucky isn’t leaving him.

He knows that, but he can’t stop thinking that maybe he is.

That like everyone else, he got sick of him too, and now he wants to get as far away from him as possible. And then he hates himself even more for making this about him, because this is about Bucky, he knows this is about an amazing opportunity for his friend and he is pissed at himself and his lack of ability to just be happy for friend. He wants Bucky to be happy, like he does with all of his friends, but it’s not the same with him. With him it’s selfish, he wants Bucky to be happy sure, but he wants him to be happy with him, he wants to be something, someone that makes Bucky happy.

Steve knows that this isn’t about Bucky fleeing, this isn’t him wanting to get as far away from Steve as he can. This isn’t because he hates him, this doesn’t have anything to do with Steve. But everyone leaves, everyone always leaves, everyone he loves leaves, and he can’t lose Bucky too. So he deals with the situation the only way he knows how, he tries to cut himself off from him, just because it’s too hard to fake happiness right now, just because it’s too hard to talk to Bucky, to see Bucky and have one question on the forefront of his mind the entire time, itching on the tip of his tongue, wanting to be asked.

“There’s nothing I can say to stop you thinking it aye?” Sam says, the first words spoken between the two of them so far today. They’re on the floor of Tony’s spare room, Sam sprawled out across the floor as Steve leans against the wall, eyeing the canvas he was working on all evening. It’s almost midnight, but they’re having dinner now, Steve is still on the second slice of his pizza while Sam glances between slice number five and his stomach, which try as he might, will never look like Steve’s.  Tony is in his workshop, unable to be lured out even for the promise of pizza.

Steve’s eyes flick from his slice of pizza over to a spot on the floor near Sam, before blue eyes meet brown almost hesitantly, as he asks, “Thinking what?”

Sam doesn’t justify that with a response, he just fixes Steve a look, and groans, grabs Steve’s empty cup and heads off to the kitchen to make them both another cup of tea. He leaves the door open behind him on the way out, and doesn’t’ even sigh when Steve presses play on his iPod, blaring the same damn album that he’s been playing for the last few days.

They both know what Steve is thinking about, they both know that he is overthinking everything that he is worrying and panicking, and they both know that there is nothing Sam can say to Steve to get him to just stop. Sam would tell him over and over again if he thought that would help, but Steve’s stubborn at the best of times and downright idiotic at the worst.

‘Bucky fucking adores you’, is what Sam wants to say. ‘We all do,’ he wants to add, but he knows it won’t help, not today, not this week. Everyone’s got a past that screwed them over, but Steve’s did a real number on him, and despite what Tony and Sam seem to be repeatedly hinting and even telling him, Steve still quite can’t figure out that he is good enough, that he’s a brilliant friend, and that in a world where no one deserves anything, he deserves to have someone look at him the way he looks at Bucky. (He already does, Sam thinks to himself, but Steve is idiotic about that too, too busy staring at the brunette to notice that as soon as he looks away, he is staring right back.)

Kettle boiled, Sam just makes out a Steve’s text alert followed by a small frustrated sigh coming from the spare room, followed by a sound that was no doubt caused from Steve knocking his head against the wall.

The rest of the night, his phone doesn’t make another peep, and yet Steve checks it almost obsessively over the next few hours. Enjoying the silence as Steve paints, album off per Sam’s request, Sam finishes another page of notes before he sends Steve a text, a text that doesn’t make a sound.

Twenty minutes later, Steve checks his phone, corners of his lips quirking up as he unlocks it with his cleaner hand, before sighing over at Sam, “Really?”

Sam just shrugs and goes back to his notes. He doesn’t ask Steve why he turned his phone on silent, doesn’t ask why he keeps checking his phone, doesn’t ask why he looked excited and nervous when he saw there was a new text, he doesn’t ask Steve anything, because he already knows the answer. And he knows that he should keep that knowledge to himself, for now at least.

**…**

Another day passes, somewhat uneventfully, and before Steve knows it, it’s night time and he’s finished another painting, and Sam is out on a date with Maria and Tony is out with Pepper, and Steve takes an hour long shower and just collapses without even checking his phone, without turning it on silent, because he’s too tired to care, too tired to think, and he just needs to sleep.

 

Fast asleep in Tony’s spare room, curled up in a ball on the mattress, sleeping with a larger body but lying in a way that remembered a smaller frame, Steve didn’t hear his phone go off the first few times. Lost in a dream with no Baltimore, and a confession that was returned, Steve smiles in his sleep, before Footloose starts to blare, pulling him out of his sleep and his dream of languid kisses and roaming hands to where he’s alone, and probably will remain that an undeterminable amount of time.

Blinded by the screen, that he notes his probably brighter than his future, he doesn’t bother with the brightness, just slides to answer, closes his eyes and pushes the phone up to his ear.

“Hello.” He almost sighs into the phone, voice groggy and heavy with sleep, wanting the person to know that he was just asleep, and that he was woken up by their phone call.

There’s a beat, a moment of silence, well not actually silence there is music pounding in the background and voices mixed together, but there is no distinguishable words until a slurred, “Steeeeeeve.”

Steve’s hand covers his eyes and he rolls onto his back. He shouldn’t have answered his phone… He should’ve answered Bucky’s texts over the last few days… He swallows, fills his lungs with air before he whispers into the phone, unsure until this moment just how much he missed his voice, “Yeah Buck?”

Losing himself in his work meant minimal phone time, which meant he replied to Bucky’s texts, albeit very slowly and rather quite delayed. He knows he should have dealt with it better, shouldn’t have ignored Bucky for the past few days, ever since the news of Baltimore, but he was busy, actually busy and hopefully Bucky understands that.

“He called me Buck.”

Steve can’t help but smile, lets Bucky’s voice fill him up, just for a moment, lets himself feel warm for a moment, before he shakes his head and asks, “Who are you talking to?”

“I love when he calls me Buck… it’s like Bucky but shorter, I like it shorter,” Bucky’s voice is warm and intoxicating, and god Steve wonders why the fuck he is lying in bed alone at whatever the hell the time is after ignoring Bucky for days, and he suddenly cannot even fathom how he lasted so long without his voice on the other end of the line.

“Buck.” He says it partially to get Bucky’s attention, but also to get himself under control. Bucky’s on a tangent, and Steve’s thoughts are taking control, and he can’t let that happen.

Bucky laughs, bright and mirthful and it makes Steve’s physically ache for the brunette. “He just did it again! I j- no Nat that’s not fair, you said I still had phone privileges I, I still have phone privileges Steve she shouldn’t take me phone off me, I’m not even that drunk.”

There’s a scuffle, one that Bucky somehow miraculously wins, if the triumphant sound is any indication. Steve waits a beat before he hums, “Uh huh.”

“You don’t believe me?” It’s adorable, the hitch in Bucky’s voice, and it makes Steve want to cry. Cry because he is so in love with this guy and he is going to Baltimore, a fact that his heart and his head will never ever let him forget.

Voice as normal as he can make it, Steve hums again before he shrugs, even though Bucky can’t see him and says, “No I don’t.”

A pause, a hitch of breathe and then a yell in the background. There’s a thud and Steve wants to ask, needs to ask what that sound was, but he waits, counts to ten, and just as he reaches 7, there is Bucky’s voice, soft and a little breathy in his ear, “Don’t what?”

“Bucky, why’d you call?” Steve sighs, running his hand down his face, wondering why this is his life, wondering why he cannot get over the fact that this guy that he hardly, okay not hardly, but knows, is moving to Baltimore. And it makes him feel pathetic, but part of him knows that if Bucky asked him to come, actually asked him, Steve ain’t all that sure he would be able to say no, not to those big blue eyes and that smirk, not ever.

Bucky seems to consider for this a moment, hums in thought and when he answers, Steve can hear the words being curled by a soft smile on Bucky’s lips, “Cause I wanted to.”

Steve’s breathe catches and he looks at the time, gives himself a moment, and says, “It’s almost 3am Buck,” because that is all he can manage right now.

“I know I just, shit, I woke you didn’t I! Oh my god I’m sorry Stevie, I didn’t want to wake you, Natalia why’d you let me call him he was sleeping I woke him up and now he’s gonna-”

His heart pangs at ‘Stevie’, even though he tries not to smile, tries not to let his stomach flutter, it doesn’t work. Smile tugging up his lips he drops his free hand on his face, bites back a sigh and whispers into the phone, “Its fine.”

There’s a beat, a pause, and then an almost nervous, “Really?” which seeks confirmation, but not a simple yes, there’s an undercurrent to the question, one that Steve can’t quite figure out in his current sleep muddled state, not one that Steve can interpret right now, not even one that he is entirely aware of.

Knowing Tony he won’t be asleep anyway right now, he might not even be home right now, but Steve doesn’t want to wake him on the off chance he is home and asleep, so he keeps his voice down as he reassures Bucky, “Yeah Buck it’s cool.”

“Oh. Good.”

Steve waits, waits all of about a minute before his resolve to wait for Bucky to continue breaks, and against his better judgement he finds himself saying, “Did you want something?” the words coming out much harsher than he intended. He almost wants to apologise for the question as soon as it passes his lips, but he bites that back too, something he’s always been good at, leaving what he truly wants to say unsaid.

“Nah, I just missed your voice.”

The words are said with such sincerity, such honesty that it catches Steve by surprise, the words aren’t what he expects, and he finds himself smiling, smiling into the dark room, smiling up at the ceiling, and forgetting for a few moments of time that Bucky is going, well probably, to Baltimore in a few short months and he will never see him again. He forgets that the sound of Bucky’s voice shouldn’t make him feel like this, forgets that he shouldn’t be grinning over the fact that Bucky missed his voice, missed him enough to drunkenly call more than anyone else on his contacts.

“My voice?” Steve can’t help but ask incredulously.

Bucky hums, “Yeah,” as the line crackles and Steve blinks up at the ceiling. “Course I did.” He adds and Steve has no idea what to say to that, not a single clue.

**…**

The next morning Tony wakes up to, well wakes up is probably not the best term Steve thinks as he takes one look at the bags under Tony’s eyes and reassess the stains on his hands. More so, the next morning, Tony walks into the kitchen to see Steve sitting on the counter, fork in hand and pancakes on the bench beside him.

Tony raises his eyebrow at him questioningly, but Steve just hands him a plate already stacked with pancakes with blueberries on the side and pushes the syrup towards him with a smile. They eat in silence, Steve lost in his thoughts and Tony relying on his life source of coffee to hit his bloodstream and wake him up before he engages in any form of conversation.

“Thanks.” Steve says breaking the silence as Tony stands up from the table, his second cup of coffee finished off along with the entire packet of blueberries.

“You made me breakfast and now you’re thanking me? You are most welcome Rogers.”

Steve shakes his head and pulls Tony into a hug. He’s stiff for a moment before he relaxes and hugs Steve back. Pulling away he looks up at the blonde and asks, “You’re ready to go home now aren’t you?”

Steve nods.

He’s ready. His art is done, his, well whatever this was, is over too. He needs to get back to his bed, needs to get back to his life, and he needs to do it now before he freaks out again and can’t manage it.

**…**

Sam doesn’t say anything when he gets back, he just pulls Steve into a hug and doesn’t let go for a few minutes. When he does he just smiles and pats Steve on the back before he asks, “Tea?”

Steve nods and heads to his room. Of course Sam took care of his washing while he was holed up at Tony’s, of course he changed his sheets and made his bed, and tidied Steve’s room just a little, just enough for Steve to be thankful rather than annoyed. It makes Steve feel like a bit of a crappy roommate, but then he remembers about the jello incident the year before last, and feels less like a crappy roommate and more like a debt has been paid.

Knowing his tea will be too hot to drink for another twenty minutes or so, Steve showers. He washes his hair and lets the warm water run down his skin for ten minutes which somehow ends up being half an hour. He doesn’t think about Bucky, or Baltimore, but he does sing a little and doesn’t miss Sam’s chuckling from the other room or the shout of, “Tone deaf as always Rogers.”

Hair still a little wet, and soft grey track pants on, Steve pulls a clean shirt over his head before dropping onto the armchair and taking a sip of his tea. Sam glances up from his notes and smiles, but doesn’t press, not yet, Steve will talk when he’s ready.

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Steve’s tea is finished and he leans back in his chair and asks, “So what’d I miss?”

**…**

Steve doesn’t bring up the conversation they had in the wee hours of the morning when he sees Bucky the next day, and nor does Bucky. Nor do they discuss the conversation that Sam interrupted, they don’t talk about the fact that they almost kissed, because neither one is aware that the other actually wants to talk about it too.

Instead, Steve sketches as he sips his tea and they sit in companionable silence as Bucky reads through a book he needs to finish for class as he lets Steve rest his feet in his lap. Sam’s out, either at a lecture or with Maria, Steve really isn’t all that sure, and with Bucky sharing the couch with him, his brow furrowed in concentration as he reads, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip occasionally, the only thing Steve can seem to focus on is his sketch, and that’s only really because he is drawing Bucky, something he doesn’t realise until he glances up from the lips on paper and watches the real ones part in front of him, Bucky’s tongue slipping between, quickly wetting his lips as he turns the page.

**…**

“Aw come on Sammy don’t be like that.” Bucky croons as he continues to run literal circles around Sam, who just sighs.

Bucky still thinks that this hour is not one to be out in the world during, he still thinks that he should be in bed right now, dead to the world and not forty minutes into his daily run with Steve. It’s a habit now, almost every morning for the past two weeks, he has been up at the butt crack of dawn and running with Steve. And he has to admit, he kinda loves every single second of it. Even Nat’s teasing when he gets home all smiley and buzzing.

Sam just groans, and continues to run, ignoring Bucky’s chuckling or the way that Steve grins over at the two of them, “I am never running with the two of you ever again.”

“You say that at least once a week and yet here you are Wilson.” Clint retorts, still wondering why he bothers coming running with Steve and Bucky, as Steve continues to run backwards right in front of him. Sam doen’t come every morning, but when he does, he loudly complains about how he wishes he stayed at home, but in truth, he doesn’t mind it… too much.

“As do you.” Sam shots back as Bucky pokes out his tongue at Steve who grins over at him.

Clint doesn’t even hesitate before answering, “You know I only come for Stev-o in that tight shirt of his.” He comes to keep Sam company, neither of them slow by normal people standards, but compared to ‘Captain fucking America’ as they have taken to calling him thanks to Bucky, and Bucky, Sam and Clint are slow, and the others don’t miss an opportunity to remind them of that. Some mornings Sam and Clint just start half an hour later and avoid having to run with the little shits, and instead just run together.

“You and me both.” Bucky grins, and the tips of Steve’s ears redden a little more and he stumbles for a second before quickly righting himself. He ignores the knowing look that Clint gives him, and is just thankful that Bucky is too busy pulling faces at Sam to notice.

**…**

The first time it happens, Steve has no idea what on earth to do. Sam is out with Maria and Steve knows he won’t be back until morning, and he cannot call Tony to ask for help, he knows that will be entirely stupid and blowing things massively out of proportion, and he also knows that he will never hear the end of it if he did. So instead, he takes one last look down at the sleeping Bucky on his couch, who looks adorably angelic and peaceful, and scoops him up in his arms and carries him to his room.

They’d been studying for hours, spread out across the lounge, their dinner eaten and then their leftovers eaten, and then hot chocolates made and devoured. It’s almost 2am and they’ve been studying for hours, both of them totally beat, but neither of them ready for Bucky to leave, they had sat in silence most of the time, but the company was nice, more than that actually. Sam won’t have a problem with either Steve or Bucky sleeping on his bed he knows that, but he also doesn’t think it will be best to leave Bucky in Sam’s room, just in case Sam comes home earlier. So Steve gently lays Bucky down on his bed, and pulls the covers up over Bucky, and goes to leave the room, to clean up and then climb into Sam’s bed before he falls asleep himself.

But Bucky grabs onto the front of his shirt and sleepily pulls him down, pulls him closer to him. Steve gets it, the bed is cold and Steve is warm, and he tries to pry Bucky’s fingers free but Bucky just gives out a small pained noise as Steve shifts away and his grip tightens and still fast asleep he gives a good pull and Steve doesn’t have any other choice but to crawl into bed beside Bucky.

Bucky gives a soft content sigh and wraps his arm around Steve’s waist as Steve gets comfortable, his back to Bucky. It tickles a little when Bucky nuzzles up behind Steve’s ear, his stubble rubbing against his skin and his breath hot against him. For a few minutes, Steve just lies there, his body slowly relaxing as he wonders how he got himself into this situation and how he can get out of it. But with each growing second he wants to ‘get out of it’ less and less. Bucky is warm against his back, his heart skips a beat when their feet intertwine and then Steve is falling asleep, wondering why they didn’t do this every night, wondering why he doesn’t just tell Bucky how he feels, because this, this is how he wants the rest of his life to be.

**…**

He rethinks that thought a few hours later when he wakes up utterly blanketless. Rolling over he audibly sighs at the mass on the other side of the bed, Bucky who is covered in the blankets, hogging them. Scowling sleepily at Bucky, Steve yanks some of the blankets over to his side of the bed, before Bucky whines at the lack of blankets wrapped around him. Steve rolls his eyes and resists the very tempting urge to pull all the blankets off of Bucky, just like he was doing to him but instead he shuffles closer and throws a sleepy arm around Bucky and pulls him into his warmth, and again Bucky makes a soft pleased sound in his sleep, and Steve falls back to sleep.

**…**

Just like everything else, they don’t talk about this is the morning. They don’t talk about how Steve knows that Bucky woke up to find himself curled around him. That Bucky shifting his arm off Steve’s waist was what woke Steve up, and him waking up just narrowly avoided him from letting a sad moan from falling between his lips at the loss of contact as Bucky crawled out of bed.

Twenty minutes later when Steve emerged from his bedroom, ready to be greeted by an empty apartment he was instead greeted by a hot pot of coffee, a bagel and a smiling Bucky with damp hair and wearing Steve’s track pants and one of what looks like Maria’s shirts. Steve tries very hard to not admire Bucky, tries very hard to not thank whatever deity he can think of for the tightness of that shirt or the fact that Bucky is wearing his clothes, something that he didn’t realise could make him feel like the room was getting a little too warm to be considered comfortable.

“Sorry I-” Bucky starts when Steve has been staring at him in silence for a few seconds too long, his brain not working with his hand and leaving Bucky holding the outstretched cup of coffee for him.

Steve shakes his head, takes the coffee and smiles, “Its fine.”

**…**

The second time it happens, Steve still isn’t really sure. He knows that he sort of hopes the same thing happens again, and then he immediately feels bad for thinking it. Because he knows he cannot want Bucky, and he knows that he shouldn’t want Bucky, and that Bucky doesn’t want him. But when Bucky makes a small wounded sigh when Steve tries to pull away again after placing the sleeping Bucky in his bed, Steve can’t help but feel relieved.

**…**

They all have exams, they all need to study like crazy, and Steve isn’t sure why sprawled over the living room with Bucky studying works. He has to less to study than Bucky, but he sketches and studies, and they just are. They talk, they eat dinner and drink tea and coffee, and can sit in silence for about five hours before Sam interrupts with a scolding for not eating and a promise of food. Bucky doesn’t fall asleep on the couch every night, some nights Steve doesn’t even see him, some nights he groans and blinks blearily at his phone at 2am and says he really should back and check on Nat, but some nights his falls asleep with his pen and hand, and those are the nights Steve likes the best.

He doesn’t know why, but he sleeps better with Bucky in his arms or with him in Bucky’s. They don’t talk about it in the morning, and Steve wakes up before Bucky almost every morning, manages to slip out of bed and have a cold shower and make a pot of coffee before Bucky resurfaces. Sam gives Steve a knowingly look when Bucky falls asleep on the couch one night and Steve just rolls his eyes and does what he always does, carries Bucky to his bed and hopes that Bucky won’t want him to go.

“You kids have fun.” Sam whispers just as Steve taps his bedroom door to a close.

**…**

Bucky drops by the café and sort of kind of flirts with Steve over the counter. They both work it so sometimes their breaks align, so they go and eat lunch together, sometimes they complain about customers, sometimes they sit in silence and sometimes they just talk about everything and anything and nothing at all.

They’ve both cut back on their hours with study taking over their lives, but one afternoon Steve finishes his shift an hour before Bucky, and instead of lingering in the art store he heads over to Bucky, and actually lets him pick out a few outfits for him.

Steve stares at his reflection for another few seconds before he sighs, “I look stupid.”

“Steeeeeve.” Bucky doesn’t hesitate before pulling open the curtain and giving Steve a once over. He knows if he waits for Steve to come out in his own time they’ll be here well past closing hour.

Bucky doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have a sarcastic comment, or a ‘I’ll get another size’, he just stares at Steve in silence. Steve tugs on the edge of the sleeve nervously as he mutters, “See I told you I look dumb.”

Bucky shakes his head, and focuses his attention of Steve’s face, “What?”

He knew these skinny jeans were a bad idea, he’d said no to them but Bucky had insisted, and now, now he wishes the floor would just swallow him whole. “It looks dumb.”

“No, you uh,” Bucky clears his throat, and keeps his gaze on Steve’s face, “ you look good.”

Steve glances down at himself and when he looks up he catches Bucky’s expression before it vanishes. Trying not to grin, Steve peers up at Bucky through his eyelashes, and can practically hear Sam laughing in his head at him, as he starts, “These are-”

“Perfect.” Bucky finishes, grinning at him and still eyeing him up in a way that makes Steve blush. He opens to mouth to say something, what, he isn’t sure, but something, but a customer wanders in with a shirt she wants to try on and Steve has never hated a stranger more in his life.

“Can I-” She starts, before she takes in Steve and Bucky, and she shuts herself up.

Steve fights back a glare and Bucky lets out a soft sigh before turning to her with a smile, “Of course.”

Instead of waiting for the moment to come back, because he knows it won’t, whatever he was about to say has vanished forever, Steve pulls the curtain shut and leans against the side of the changing room and tries his best not to sigh.

Glancing at the mirror one last time before yanking off the jeans, he decides he’s going to buy them, and maybe the shirt that made Bucky lose his train of thought earlier.

**…**

They are dating.

But they aren’t actually dating.

Not properly, not really. Because Steve cannot tell Bucky how he feels, he just can’t, not with his impending decision, not when he may be leaving. So Steve keeps his mouth shut and his lips to himself, and he pines, oh he does pine, but not from a distance anymore, and he isn’t sure if that is worse or better.

Steve hasn’t kiss Bucky, but then again Bucky hasn’t kissed him either. They were so close on that bench a month and a half ago nowbut they haven’t been close to that since. Neither of them have brought up the conversation that took place, nor the fact that if Sam hadn’t interrupted them they definitely would have kissed. Neither of them have brought it up because both of them thinks that the other doesn’t want it to be brought. Neither of them have brought it up over the last few weeks because they aren’t sure. They don’t want to ruin what they have by dragging up the ‘could have been’s, and the ‘if’s.

Steve cannot bring it up, he can’t ruin what they have now. It was hard before, before when they were friends, but now, now they’re practically inseparable, now Bucky’s one of his best friends. It’ll be hard enough watching him leave, but if they’re, if they…. Steve just can’t, he just can’t. So they don’t talk about. He teases Bucky and knows how he likes his tea and knows his little habits, nervous and normal, and at least once a day he struggles to remember why he can’t just tell, why he shouldn’t tell him how he feels.

He can hear his voice, he can remember the look on Bucky’s face as he says it, “You didn’t even see me and you...”

“Started to fall for you.” Bucky had replied, and god his sincerity feels like a punch in the gut to Steve now. Because he had meant it, hadn’t he?

Steve groans and pulls the pillow over his face. He cannot live through this little interaction one more time, because it is fucking killing him. He just, he can’t.

**…**

Sam doesn’t comment on how Bucky is actually friends with him and Tony now. He doesn’t comment on how Steve and Nat get on like a house on fire, both of them full of dry humour and brilliant comments. He refuses to comment on the fact that Steve sees Clint at least three or four times a week now. Sam knows exactly why Steve lets Clint teach him his culinary ways, mainly because Bucky is always complaining that Steve can only do pancakes and something that loosely resembles lasagne, and won’t let Steve in the kitchen when he’s making something to which Steve always groans in response to and sets the table and mutters under his breath about how the stove incident happened one time.  

Steve hates asking for help, but he lets Clint to teach him how to cook, because he really has no idea how to and after he managed to make brown sludge that was meant to soup, Sam had banned him from teaching himself. Sure Steve wants to impress everyone with his new cooking skill, he wants to, specifically and adorably, but not exclusively, impress Bucky.

Sam also doesn’t comment how Steve helps Clint out at the YMCA, and that Steve would help Clint out without anything in return, but Clint needs help and Steve needs to learn how to cook, so they both manage to give something back to each other this way.

He doesn’t comment on how Bucky spends hours in Tony’s workshop with Tony, and manages to get Tony to eat more often while he’s working, and somehow succeeds in managing to get Tony to sleep an extra hour every few nights; something that not even Pepper can often do. He also doesn’t bring up that Clint, Steve, Bucky and him go running together a few times a week, or that Steve and Bucky go pretty much every morning together without fail.

Sam doesn’t comment that at least twice a week a group of them have dinner at one of their flats, and that they take turns cooking, and that they play board games, or Mario kart or watch a dvd or just do nothing for a few hours except for talk and laugh and just enjoy each others company.

Sam refuses to comment on the fact that Bucky knows how Steve likes his coffee in the morning and in the afternoon, or which tea Steve likes when. He doesn’t say anything about how Steve refuses to acknowledge that he was wearing Bucky’s jumper the other day cause he left his at home, and hasn’t stopped wearing it since.  Sam doesn’t comment on that because he knows better than to bring up that particular topic of conversation.

He also doesn’t comment on the fact that when a group of them watch a movie together, Steve and Bucky always end up sitting next to each other, and end up edging closer and closer to one another as the movie goes on. None of them comment on it, because none of them want to pop the bubble they are in, but all of them are taking bets as to whether Steve or Bucky will confess first and how long it’ll take them to get their heads out of their asses and actually do it.

They are both happy, but both holding back, because neither of them think the other wants what they want. And even though Sam and Clint and Tony and Nat have had exasperated conversations over coffee about this more than once in the last few weeks, they all have to wait. Firstly because it’s about Steve and Bucky’s realisations, they can’t interrupt that, and secondly, because that would be breaching the rules of their bet.

Sam’s hopeful but he’s not an idiot, and he thinks he may possibly win this bet…

**…**

“You’re dating without the perks.” Sam informs Steve one afternoon, just over two months afterBucky announced that he was going to Baltimore.

Steve looks up from his sketchbook and eyes Sam distractedly for a moment before nodding his head again, “What?”

“You do everything fucking couples do except, well-”

Steve keeps the sigh out of his voice as best as he can as he says, “Without the fucking?”

Sam chuckles, “Exactly!”

Steve just sighs in reply. He knows that Sam isn’t done yet, so he continues to sketch the curve of Bucky’s jaw line distractedly as he waits. “You do all the cute little couplely things, and I’m not even sure you are aware of bloody doing it, but you don’t tell each other how you feel, you don’t kiss and you certainly don’t let yourselves just be happy.”

Steve’s pencil doesn’t pause, but his shoulders do stiffen as he sighs, “Sam.”

“We’ve talked about this I know we have but have you considered-”

“No.” Steve’s voice is firm, he doesn’t want to talk about this. Not now. Not yesterday. Not tomorrow. He just doesn’t want to talk about, because talking about it means thinking about it, and he does enough of that already. But this cannot work, he knows that it cannot work, but if he talks to Sam about, if he lets himself actively think about he may hope, he may believe in miracles and he may end up doing something catastrophically stupid, and he doesn’t want to do that. So instead he keeps his eyes on his page and keeps sketching.

Knowing that he shouldn’t push, but also needing to push sometimes, Sam pushes, “No you haven’t considered it or no you-”

“Just no.” Steve doesn’t want to do this, he knows he should, he knows that Sam has been wanting to have this conversation properly for weeks now, knows that he should, but he can’t. Not today, not tomorrow either, and probably not the day after that.

Sam supresses a sigh before he tries again, “But-”

“Sam.” Steve warns, glancing up at Sam before leaning further back into his chair, wanting to disappear into it, wanting to get out of this conversation. He cannot have this conversation, not again, not today. Not now.

“Fine.” Sam concedes.

They will talk about this later, Steve knows that and Sam is sure about it. Steve knows that Sam just wants what is best for him, he knows he is looking out for him, he knows that this is important to Sam because it is important to Steve, but Steve cannot talk about it, not now, not until Bucky decides. If Bucky stays, if he does, he may tell, probably, potentially… Steve groans and drops his head into his free hand, and ignores the look that Sam gives him as he does so.

(Sam doesn’t push the issue any further, doesn’t breach the rules of the bet… but god he wants to.)

**…**

And then suddenly without Steve even realising it, the time is pretty much over. Bucky has just over a week left before he makes his decision, and that thought hits Steve one more as he is pours his coffee. He swears as the cup overflows and he cleans it up before Sam gets out of the shower. But even when he’s half way through his coffee, he can’t shake the feeling of panic or the lump in his throat or the way his stomach twists.

Because Bucky has 9 days to make a decision, because Bucky probably won’t be decide to stay, because in just a few weeks Bucky could be gone and Steve is not ready for that. Not ready at all.

So he does what he has never really done before.

He doesn’t run, not exactly, not properly, but he does back away, as far away as he can. He feels like shit, and he knows this isn’t what he does, but that doesn’t stop him from doing it.

**…**

Steve shouldn’t hope, he absolutely shouldn’t be hoping, but he can’t help himself. Can’t help but grin every time he sees Bucky’s papers spread out over the couch. He can’t help by smile because Bucky is still tossing up between three places, because he hasn’t made his decision yet; and more importantly because one of the final contenders is close enough to them now that he wouldn’t have to move. Close enough that he could stay in this apartment, could stay with Nat and Tony and Sam and Steve, and never have to move, never have to leave them, to leave Steve.

They don’t really talk about where Bucky’s going to go, not now that Steve can see that this decision is stressing him out even more so than it is stressing out Steve. Bucky’s excited too, eager and energetic, but he’s nervous, nervous and undecided, and he mules over the three folders him and Nat put together a few weeks back now at least once a day, well once a day that Steve sees.

He has a week left to decide, a week left before he makes one of the biggest decisions in his life, and Steve has been busy for the past two days, too busy to see his best friend, too busy to really answer his texts with any real commitment. Steve doesn’t want to ruin this for him, doesn’t want to make this about him, because it isn’t, this is about Bucky and god he just wants Bucky to be happy. But he’s selfish too, he wants Bucky to be happy _with him,_ not alone in Baltimore. He can’t sway Bucky’s decision, won’t let himself influence his decision in any way, so two days lead to four which become five, and then all of a sudden it’s the day before Bucky makes his decision, and Steve hasn’t seen him in a few days, has had a few half-hearted phone calls, but no actual real contact and Steve feels like shit.

Feels like shit because this is the most important decision in Bucky’s life and he needs to be there with him, needs to be there supporting him, like he knows Nat and Sam are, even Tony is, as Tony pointed out when he showed up on Steve’s bed two days back trying to drag him out for lunch.

He should be there for Bucky, knows that he should be, and so when his phone starts vibrating against his desk he pauses, glances down at his paint covered hands and wonders if he should ignore this call as well. The ring resonates around the room, and Steve wipes his left hand hastily on his shirt before he answers the call, not even checking the id first.

“Steve.” It’s not Bucky, it’s Sam, and Steve lets out a sigh of relief that catches in his throat at Sam’s next words, “I want you to listen careful and listen close cause I’m only going to say this once.”

He’s worried, worried when Sam seems to mutter something under his breath and then doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, so Steve prompts, “Sam what is it?”

There’s a breath, and then there is Tony’s voice yelling in the background, “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” which is quickly followed by a small wince from Tony, no doubt due to Sam hitting him in the arm for yelling in his ear.

“Huh?” Steve asks, only a little confused. He knows what Tony is yelling about, knows that this is about Bucky, knows that he shouldn’t be ignoring Bucky, knows that he needs to be responsible and mature about this and see him and hang out, but he can’t.

“You’ve kinda disappeared on us all.” They all know that they aren’t talking about ‘us’, they all know that while he hasn’t seen them lately because he has been sort of avoiding them all in a way, this isn’t why they are calling, they all know that this is about Bucky, and Steve feels like shit even more so now that the others think this is a big enough deal to call him about, but he still thinks he’s right.

“Yeah I know, I’ve been busy and-” Steve starts. It’s a weak excuse he knows that, but it is sort of true. He has been busy, but he’s made himself busy, he isn’t too busy to see them, to see Bucky, to answer his calls, but he thinks it’s better this way. “I’ve just been busy.” He finishes lamely, not really in the right frame of mind to come up with some elaborate excuse.

A silent conversation is had on the other end of the line, and Steve waits, phone on speakerphone as he stares at the easel in front of him. He waits, wonders if he should say something, starts muttering something about how he’s busy so they should make this quick, when Sam yells over him, “YOU’RE BUSY? BUSY? Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?”

“Sam I-” Steve starts, palms up in a defeat that Sam and Tony cannot see.

Sam sighs loudly, and Steve swears he can actually hear Tony rolling his eyes. “Uh nuh, this is not talking time for you, this is- wait one sec Nat wants a word.”

(Technically this is a bit of a breach of the bet, but this is more important than that right now.)

In all honesty, Steve is starting to feel a little ambushed. Without cause, not so much, but he feels ambushed all the same. He knows avoiding Bucky for the past few days is a shit thing to do, but he couldn’t help it, not really. If he didn’t avoid Bucky then he would have said something stupid, he would have dampened Bucky’s excited mood, and he wouldn’t allow himself to do that.

There’s a pause, and Steve uses it to ponder how many people he is currently talking to. He doesn’t have many excuses to give, not any that he could tell Bucky, so he wonders what he’ll manage to say if the three, or more of them, push him into actually talking to him.

“Rogers?” It’s Nat, but her voice is softer than usual, while still having some new edge to it. Not a warning, but something, almost protective, and Steve isn’t too sure if it’s directed at him or Bucky.

It’s not a question, but he answers it all the same. “Yeah.”

“What the fuck?” The softness is gone now, but she isn’t yelling at him, she doesn’t even really sound mad, just disappointed, and that is worse.

“I’ve uh, uhm-” Steve mutters, staring at the canvas in front of him, hoping it will helpfully provide him with some excuse, but it just watches him, silently judging him, rather like the paintbrush in his hand which currently looks embarrassed to be so much as touching the shaking mess Steve will no doubt become.

Nat doesn’t want to hear the rest of his sentence, doesn’t want to listen to whatever bullshit excuse he was going to come up with, so instead she yells over him, “PULL YOUR HEAD OUTTA YOUR ASS!” She still doesn’t sound angry, not really, not yet.

“Why are you all yelling at me!”

“I’m not!” Clint’s voice yells out, and Steve sighs, wondering why he is friends with any of these people. There’s a pause and then Maria pipes up, “Hey Steve!’

Tony and Nat are talking in the background, loud enough that Steve can make out their voices but not loud enough that he can work out what they’re saying. He waits a moment, stares at his hands for a second before Clint is saying, “Stev-o sometimes you are literally the dumbest person I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.”

“Uh thanks?”

The talking in the background is getting louder, but Steve still can’t make out any words, but he can make out Nat’s voice telling them all to shut up. There’s a few seconds where the other end of the line is quiet, no doubt exchanging looks and nudges, and then Sam clears his throat, “Steve I’m gonna level with you here.”

Steve regards the paintbrush while they both wait in silence, it offers him no support, simply continues to silently judge him. He wonders what Sam will say, wonders if he should apologise to them all, or if he should tell him that they should leave him the fuck alone because he knows he is right.

He doesn’t get a lot of time to think before Sam is saying, “You’re built like a fucking brick house, but if you don’t get your ass over to Barnes’ apartment I will show up in your apartment and beat the shit outta you for being such a dick.”

Clint had obviously chosen that moment to take a swig of his drink at that moment, because there is spluttering followed by the others cracking up and Maria swearing, and Clint getting hit in the arm and Tony laughing over the rest of them, but Steve doesn’t’ pay attention to any of that, he’s silent.

The threats idle, he knows that, and Sam most likely couldn’t take him even it wasn’t, but they have Nat on their side, and he knows he probably wouldn’t stand much of a chance against her.

“Sir yes sir.” Is all he replies, smiling to himself as he does a mock salute to the rest of them that they will never see, and without missing a beat he hangs up the phone.

Sam’s right he realises. They all are. Whatever he is doing now, the ignoring, the avoiding, it needs to stop. And as much as he wants to very much stay in this room for the rest of always, he knows he can’t, and he knows that if the others felt the need to get together and have a conference call then he really does need to pulling his out of his ass and getting to Bucky’s apartment.

**…**

If he’s been honest with himself, actually honest, he knows he loves Bucky and he really doesn’t want him to leave. But he also knows that if that is what will make Bucky happy, truly happy, then that is exactly what he wants for Bucky. A selfish part of him, which has been eating him alive the past few days really wants Bucky to need Steve to be happy, but he knows life doesn’t work like that, not for him at least.

It’s freezing outside. Something he no longer minds, now that winter doesn’t actually kill him, he sort of likes winter, but right now he loves it, because it means delaying his trip to Bucky and Nat’s apartment, where he knows that Bucky will be, where he knows that Nat won’t be. Grey beanie on and the scarf that Bucky knitted for him before midterms wrapped around his neck, Steve shrugs on his coat and heads out into the night. Torn between wanting to go back inside and lock the door and never come out, and running to Bucky’s to tell him not to leave, to tell him that he’s an asshole for ignoring him and that he’s sorry; Steve just settles on walking, hands jammed into his pockets, trying to think of something, anything to say.

He knows he won’t come up with anything, nothing good, no excuse that he can actually give to Bucky. He can’t exactly tell him the truth, he can’t tell him that he loves him and he doesn’t want him to leave, that he’s selfish and he wants Bucky to stay, because he owes Bucky more than that. He’s his friend, and he wants the best for Bucky, and nothing less, so if Baltimore is where Bucky wants to go, then he’ll support him, as best he can. He just can’t be around him while the decision is made, it hurts his heart too much, makes him want to cry at the thought that he probably see Bucky at all after he leaves, and that is something he isn’t, and probably never will be ready for.

**…**

Bucky’s face falls as soon as his eyes land on Steve. For a fraction of a second he looks relieved, and then he just looks pissed and exhausted. “Well look what the cat dragged in.” Leaving the door open he turns away from Steve and walks towards the living room as he asks, “What finally made you decide to show your face?”

“Buck I-” Steve starts, closing the door behind him as he wonders whether he should take off his shoes, or just accept the inevitable fact of him leaving pretty soon no doubt. Bucky isn’t happy to see him and to be fair, he doesn’t blame him. After ignoring him for the past few days, he is partially surprised that Bucky didn’t slam the door in Steve’s face.

Bucky doesn’t let Steve finish, he isn’t really interested in hearing what he has to say, not when he knows whatever Steve will come up with will probably be shit. So Bucky finishes for him, “Have been ignoring me, yeah, you made that pretty fucking clear.”

“No I-”  Steve pulls his sleeves down over his hands, and stands still a few steps away from the door, his eyes pointedly fixed on anything but Bucky.

The brunette sighs, pushes fingers through his hair and looks straight at him, “Don’t lie to me Steve.”

Steve can’t lie, he won’t lie, but he can’t tell the truth either. He can’t tell Bucky why he’s been avoiding him, can’t tell him what he wants to, because he knows he shouldn’t, and he can’t ruin this, can’t ruin them just because of his feelings, just because he wants more, just because he is in love with his friend, and doesn’t want him to leave.

Bucky makes a small frustrated sound before he walks the length of the living room, then turns on his heel to face Steve. “What the fuck Steve?”

The blonde can’t speak. He wills his lips to move, tells himself to say something, anything, but not a sound comes out. He cannot think of a single thing to say. He wants to apologise, needs to give a reason, but honestly, he knows that whatever he does end up saying will either be total shit (most likely), or the truth (which he can’t say, not yet).

“This is the most important decision of my life, I need my friends to help me with this, to be there for me, to-”

Those stormy eyes are seeking out his and Steve just stares at the couch as he starts pathetically, “You had Nat and Clint and-”

“I needed you!” Bucky shouts.

Steve cracks, eyes meeting Bucky’s he takes a step towards him and tries to keep his voice as even as he can, and fails miserably at attempting not to shout, “No you didn’t! You never do.”

Now Bucky just looks hurt. He looks annoyed sure, and still fucking exhausted, but he is gaping at Steve for a few seconds, unable to form words until he is yelling, “How can you even think that?”

None of this is coming out right, not that there is a right way to be saying any of this, but if there is, this certainly isn’t it. Bucky’s eyes are on Steve, and Steve has to physically turn away from him, away from that hurt expression and those stormy blue eyes. Fingers combing through hair, Steve tries to find words, tries to find something to say.

“I just- just, you don’t need anyone to make this decision for you, you need to make it for yourself.”

Bucky just groans at that. He’s leaning against the edge of the couch now, ankles crossed and arms folded and he watches Steve, looking hostile and more sadly, looking as though he is defending himself from whatever Steve will eventually say. “You think I don’t know that! Of course I do, it’s on me, I know that, but it would have been nice to have a little help from my best fucking friend.”

“And you had it.” Steve answers without a moment of hesitation. He knows he had the support of his best friend, he had Nat and he had Clint, and he had everyone, everyone but him. And he feels like shit that he wasn’t there, but he had a good reason for it, although he is having trouble remembering what that reason was, or why he shouldn’t tell Bucky it.

With a frustrated sound Bucky grips the end of the couch before he’s pacing and very much trying to not yell, but giving up in the end, “No I didn’t, cause you weren’t FUCKING THERE!”

“Do you wanna know why I wasn’t there?”

“Yes!” Of course he fucking does. He hasn’t properly seen Steve for weeks, of course he wants to know the reason, he wants to know what Steve’s ‘reason’ was.

Steve shakes his head, unable to look at Bucky, his eyes land on him for a second but they don’t linger, not when thoughts are crashing and colliding inside his head and he is trying not to say anything too stupid and cause irreparable damage, “Do you want to know why?”

Bucky makes a pained sound and pauses his pacing to glare at Steve a little, “Christ Steve of course I do!”

“Because it was just too hard.” Steve’s voice cracks midway through. He wills it not to but it does anyway, but he isn’t sure Bucky notices. He heard the words if his expression is any indication, but Steve’s change of tone seems to go unnoticed but Bucky whose pacing has continued.

“Too hard? It was too hard to help me decide my future?”

“Yes! I don’t want you to leave, it’s selfish and it’s stupid and I couldn’t help you because the whole time I’ve been hoping that you won’t go, that you won’t pick Hopkins even though it’s your fucking dream, because it means you’d leave.”

“Why do you even care if I leave? It’s not like you missed me enough to answer any of my fucking texts in the last few days? So why do you even-”

Steve can’t take it anymore, can’t take another word of it, not with Bucky’s hurt tone, not with those eyes, not with that expression, he can’t take another second of this.

So he doesn’t think, he just blurts out without forethought or realisation of the words leaving his parted lips as he yells, “BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

Bucky blinks. “You what?”

Words hang around them, hand covering an open mouth, trying to pull back in the words, wishing that he could have been fast enough to stop them before they slipped out. But he wasn’t. And now Bucky is staring at him with wide eyes and Steve just wants to die.

Hurriedly thinking, Steve knows he can’t take it back, so if he can’t go back, he needs to go forward. He’s told _the_ truth, the main one that he couldn’t possibly tell, but he’s done that, so nothing else he says can be worse. “That’s why I couldn’t help you, cause I know you have to leave and I don’t want you to.”

“What?”

Bucky is just blinking at him, is frozen to the spot as he regards Steve like he’s just grown another face out of the side of his neck, and all Steve can do is hang his head and mutter with full sincerity, “I’m so sorry.”

The brunette seems to process everything for a silent minute, a minute of Steve staring at his feet and wishing the ground would swallow him whole before Bucky is blinking again, gaze resting on Steve, looking even more confused than when those three words threw themselves off the tip of Steve’s tongue.

Steve nods at Bucky’s gaze, knows that Bucky is going to ask him something, and he doesn’t disappoint, “You love me so I have to leave?”

It hurts to hear him say it, to have him so those three words with no real weight to them, ‘You love me’, slips between his lips and fails to sound how Steve had imagined it would. “Bucky I-“

In all honesty, Steve doesn’t actually have the rest of sentence figured out, so he’s grateful when Bucky cuts him off, “I’ve already made my decision.”

Well grateful until he hears what Bucky has to say.

Regarding for a moment the couch, which offers no support to him, he stares at the window, and tries to breathe, something that should be easier than one shaky breath, before he manages to get out, “I thought you might have.”

“I’m staying.”

“You wil- wait what?” He gets half way through his sentence before he actually processes what Bucky just said, and all he can do is stare.

Bucky smiles, just for a second, just a ghost of a smile, a small one that crinkles the corners of his eyes, before he is saying the two words Steve didn’t think he would hear him say, “I’m staying.”

Fingers tug at strands of blonde hair as Steve paces, rattling his head as he mentally scolds himself, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything, he knew this was a bloody bad idea.  “No you can’t, you-”

 “I’m-” The word doesn’t even become more than a single sound before Steve is cutting him off, “God this is exactly why I didn’t see you! This is exactly why I’ve been avoiding you, I-”

Bucky cuts him off, “This isn’t about what you just said, I’ve already called them, I made my decision a few hours ago.”

Steve doesn’t speak, he just stares, eyes widening just a fraction, as he regards Bucky silently, trying to process what he’s just being told. He wants to argue, wants to tell himself that he mustn’t have heard him right, not properly, that something got lost in translation, but then Bucky is saying, “I’m staying Steve, I’m not going anywhere.”

**…**

Steve can’t believe it. He’d be lying if he said that wasn’t what he wanted to hear, it was exactly what he wanted to hear. But no, he can’t. Bucky can’t. He can’t be saying this to him, this cannot be his decision. Steve knows why he is saying this, knows that he is keeping Bucky here, no one else is. Nat and Clint are moving to Paris, and Becca lives closer to Baltimore than she does to here, so the only reason Bucky has made this choice, has forgone Hopkins is for Steve, and he can’t live with that. God he wants to be selfish, he really wants to be. The last two months have been almost perfect, everything has been almost perfect, aside from the inevitable that has being looming over their heads the entire time. But otherwise, perfect. Well with the exception of the past week.

Bucky hasn’t kissed him but to be fair Steve hasn’t kissed him either, and despite himself, Steve has managed to not bring up the conversation that Sam had interrupted all those weeks ago. But now, standing only two steps away from Bucky, hearing that this doesn’t have to end, that Bucky won’t be leaving him, this isn’t what he wants. God he wants Bucky, wants him so bad is hurts, but not like this. He doesn’t want Bucky giving up his dream for him, he can’t.

 So while every beat of his fucking heart is saying yes, and every thought is trying to push him forward, to close the gap between him and finally press his lips against his, he just breathes out, “Bucky no.”

The words are too hard to say properly, they catch in his throat and he forces them out anyway, and part of him hopes that Bucky didn’t hear them but then the smile he wears falters for a second and he whispers, “Steve.”

Steve shakes his head, holds up his hand. It’s his turn to speak now, he needs to tell Bucky he is being ridiculous. He isn’t worth Bucky giving up Hopkins over, how can’t Bucky see that? Ignoring Bucky’s piercing gaze Steve looks just to the left of his head as he pushes his hand through his hair and starts, “No you cannot choose me over going to Hopkins, I won’t let you! You can’t just-”

But Bucky doesn’t want to let Steve speak, doesn’t want to listen to Steve say these stupid things that make no sense. He knows that Steve’s brain is buzzing, thoughts colliding and erupting, and Bucky doesn’t want that, he wants Steve to listen, actually listen to what he has been saying but not actually vocalising for the past few weeks now.

“Fuck Hopkins. I don’t care where I go, it’s just a place I work, it won’t be home, can’t ever be even a semblance of home without you there with me Stevie."

"But Buck-" Steve argues. Bucky isn’t getting it, doesn’t understand that Steve isn’t worth it, isn’t worth any of it. He ain’t worth Bucky giving up Hopkins for, he’s not worth Bucky wasting his time on. He’ll figure it out soon enough, and he’ll hate Steve for it, he’ll hate him from taking Hopkins away from him and even after he leaves him, Steve won’t be able to forget how he took Hopkins for Bucky.

"Don't 'but Buck' me, you still have another year of study here and I cannot be apart from you for a whole fucking year, I will not do it." His words drip with sincerity, his expression open and his eyes not even trying to hide the way he looks at Steve, but Steve can’t notice any of it, just like he hasn’t been able to notice it for the past few weeks where he has been skirting around the subject, trying not to think about how much he wants Bucky, trying not to wonder if Bucky feels the same way about Steve as he does him. Too busy trying not to stare at Bucky, Steve hadn’t noticed that Bucky was busy staring at Steve.

Steve’s breath would catch in his throat, his heart would skip a beat if he wasn’t so busy arguing to fully process what Bucky just said, if he wasn’t so busy arguing to actually take account of how Bucky is looking at him right now.

Instead the blonde shakes his head and argues, "But Hopkins is the dream it's what you've wanted it's-"

The rest of the sentence drops as Steve meets Bucky’s eyes, and he pauses, Bucky’s words finally sinking in. Eyes skim over Bucky’s face, lingering on his lips, his bottom lip red from Bucky worrying it between his teeth, and suddenly the first shoe drops.

Ocean blue eyes widen in surprise and he stares at Bucky for a moment, his lips parted and then he is about to speak again but Bucky beats him to it, "It's not."

Steve shakes his head, getting back into the argument, trying not to let Bucky’s words affect him. He needs Bucky to know that he’s not worth it, he needs Bucky to know that Hopkins is more important, Hopkins is the dream, Steve ain’t even a consolation prize. "You can't give up on your dream for me."

Bucky gives him a pained look, an eyebrow slightly quirked as if to say, really Steve sometimes you really are the dumbest shit alive. He tugs his bottom lip between teeth for another moment before he rolls his shoulders, steeling himself, ready to go all in because nothing else is working, and he needs to give Steve this, after months of almost, he needs to give Steve something concrete.

Feet moving of their own accord, Bucky closes the space between them. Hands cup Steve’s face and Bucky is tilting his face up to his, their mouths only breathes apart, and when grey eyes meet blue, Bucky smiles, soft and bright and wonderful, and he whispers, voice quiet but drowning the world out as he says with absolute sincerity, "Don't you get it Steve, I'm giving up Hopkins for my dream."

The second shoe drops, finally, and god, it’s not at all what Steve is expecting not at all.

And in that moment, the unanswerable question, the question that Steve was never able to really wrap his head around, the question that he was never able to even start to answer, seemed like the most basic fucking question ever.

All his life he had wondered, he had hoped that one day the answer could possibly resemble something to do with a perhaps, or a maybe.

But now, now the answer is abso-fucking-lutely, it is firmly and completely a yes.

Steve had wondered his whole life whether he would be enough, wondered if he would be ever be good enough.

And god, Bucky looked at him like he was the fucking sun, like his world revolved around him, like he was the most beautiful, amazing thing that he had ever seen, and suddenly it was so obvious.

Steve was more than enough, he was better than good enough.

He knows that now, he can feel it in his bones, and he can feel it in the way that Bucky’s lips press against his, soft and urgent. He seems almost unsure at first, not quite sure if Steve wants this as much as he does, and he pulls away, uncertain before Steve chases the kiss.

Lips latching on to his, Bucky stiffens for a moment, seemingly surprised that Steve wants this, and then Steve’s hands are sliding down to Bucky’s hips, fingers digging into denim as he kisses him back with all he has.

Bucky wants him, needs him, if his kiss is any indication of how he feels. But more importantly, Steve’s not only good enough, he’s everything, he is fucking everything to Bucky.

And god, that realization feels almost as good as Bucky's lips against his.

 Almost.

Because by god, he has never been kissed like this. He has never felt like this before either. But with Bucky’s lips tugging and caressing, he cannot escape that thought, the thought that he is good enough, the thought that finally after all this time, he was good enough, he was enough, and he will always be enough. Perhaps not for the world, but for Bucky, and that is all that really matters.

Because the truth of the matter he never wanted to be enough for everyone, just someone, and that someone is pulling his plush lips away from his, only to trail kisses across his jaw and down his neck, suckling on his collarbone before he breathes against freshly sucked skin, “God I love you Stevie.”

Does he bite back a ‘really?’ maybe, but that really isn’t the point, because Bucky is glancing up at him, looking at him through those goddamn lashes and he looks so gorgeous and he is smiling up at Steve, looking at him the way that Steve never thought anyone would.

And then he is running his pad of his thumb over the fresh mark left on Steve’s skin and Steve doesn’t even have to think about it before he is cupping Bucky’s face with his hands and pulling his lips towards his, as he breathes, “God I fucking love you.” And then he is kissing Bucky like he wished he had been doing all those months ago.

 

(Neither of them know it yet, but in a few hours, they will find a very smug Sam Wilson, because he fucking called it.)

**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end, holy shit.  
> This chapter was kinda hard to write not gonna lie. There was just so much that needed to happen, and I wanted to do right by my characters and not rush it and also not stretch it out too long.  
> Anyways, so yeah, hope this was worth the wait, and hope you liked it.  
> Thanks to everyone who commented, subscribed, bookmarked and kudos’d! It means the world to me:)  
> At some point there will definitely be a bonus chapter, but that won’t be able for a little while at least.


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